• 

I 
9 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


By  Marie  Tudor 

The  Potter's  Clay 
The  Winged  Spirit 


THE   AUTHOR   WITH    HOPE,    HER    DAUGHTER 


The  Winged  Spirit 

And  Other  Poems 


By 

Marie  Tudor 

Author  of  "The  Potter's  Clay,"  "  Hindu  Mind  Training" 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 

Cbc    fmfcfterbocher    press 

1918 


COPYRIGHT,  1918 

BY 
MARIE  T.  GARLAND 


Ube  fmicfeerbocher  press,  Hew  Both 


TO  MY  LOVE 

The  bird  must  hunger 

For  his  mate 

Ere  he  will  sing; 

It  is  my  love  for  you 

That  gives  my  spirit  wings. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  WINGED  SPIRIT       .         .         .         .         i 

LOVE    .......        2 

MY  HEART  is  STILLED    ....        3 

MY  MATE  SHALL  HOLD  ME  .         -4 

THE  AGE-LONG  SONG     ....        5 

EVER  AS  ONE 6 

SILENTLY  THE  WILLOW  WEAVES       .         .        7 
YELLOW  ROSES      .....        8 

WHEN  I  WAS  TEN  ....        9 

GRIEVE  NOT          .....       10 

WITH  BABE  ON  ARM       .         .         .         .11 

SPIRITS          .         .         .         .         .         .  .     12 

I'M  ALONE  TONIGHT       .         .         .         -13 
THE  BREAD  ......       14 

SUNSET,  WERNERSVILLE,  PA.  .         .         .15 

IF  YOU  FLY  ......       16 

DAYBREAK,  NEW  YORK  .         .  17 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

MY  PASSION          .         .         .  18 
THE  SUN  CAN  LIGHT    .        .        .        .19 

THE  WOMAN 20 

NEW  YORK  .         .         .         .         .         .  21 

GOD  is  IN  THE  WHOLE    .      v  .'       .         .  22 

OUR  DREAMS         .         .         ....,;     ..,  23 

MY  CHILD  is  DEAD       .         .         .         ..24 

MY  THOUGHTS  Go  FREE       ,         « .      ...  25 

MY  BURDEN          .       ,. ..      .         .         .  27 

WOMAN         .         .         .         .       , .  .       .  30 

A  MARCH  OF  TREES      ....  31 

PAN  PIPING  .       .,,,  ..  s  .      ,.,,.      «         .  32 

JEWELS         .         .         .         .         .         ,  34 

THE  EMPIRE  OF  MY  LOVE      .       ,  .^.;      ,  38 

To  HANIEL .39 

To  HELEN    .         .         .         .       , .         .  41 

You  ASK  ME  IF  I  LOVE  YOU          .         .  43 

THE  INNER  FLAME        .         .        .         .  45 

POETRY — I 47 

POETRY — II  .         .       ;  .  r      ,         ,         .  48 

YOUR  ARMS  HAVE  HELD  ME    .         .      .  .  49 

THE  UNIVERSE      .         .  .,  .  v      ,.     ...  51 


CONTENTS  vii 

PAGE 

THOSE  WHO  HAVE  KNOWN  LOVE      .       :  .  52 

WE  LIVE  AGAIN    .         .         .         .         .,  53 

THE  SPIRIT  is  THE  FLAME     .         .         .55 

LOVE  EVERYWHERE        ....  56 

To  AN  AVIATOR    .....  57 

THE  LAND  WE  NEVER  SHALL  SEE    .         .  58 

I  FEEL  YOU  IN  THE  WIND      ...  60 

TAKE  ME      ......  62 

LIFE  ETERNAL       .....  64 

I  AM  A  WOMAN     .....  65 

ACROSS  THE  GREAT  LAGOON  ...  67 

WHO  KNEELS  IN  PRAYER       ...  68 

To  HANIEL  ......  69 

THE  STRANGER      .         .         .         .  71 

LET  ME  ENFOLD  YOU  ALL  73 

To  VERNON  CASTLE      ....  74 

A  WAN  WILLOW 75 

AN  ARROW  FROM  THE  SUN    ...  76 

How  BEAR  THIS  PAIN?          ...  77 

HER  PLAID 78 

SLOWLY  A  WOMAN  CLIMBS     ...  79 

Two  FIGURES  80 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  POTTER'S  WHEEL  .         .        Y     '•••;  81 

THE  NEW-BORN  SPIRIT.         .        ."     .  83 

THE  GREAT  WRONG      .         .         .         .  84 

THE  HAND  OF  WAR      .         .         .         .  85 

NEW  BEAUTY  SPRINGS  .  .  .  86 
MY  MIND  SHALL  BE  .  .  .87 

I  HAVE  UNDERSTOOD     ....  88 

FOR  LOVING  YOU 89 

YOUR  NAME.         .....  90 

IN  THE  STUDIO      .....  91 

THE  GATHERING  WAVE.         ...  92 

To  BE  FREE         .  93 

NOT  BE  RESTLESS?        ....  94 

THE  PEACE  WE  SEEK    ....  95 

A  SOLITARY  PATH          ....  96 

LIFE  MAY  COME  .....  97 

ALL  THROUGH  THE  YEARS      ...  98 

SPRING  is  HERE 99 

IN  THE  NIGHT      .....  100 

I  WOULD  TELL  YOU  .  .  .  .  101 
FACE  OF  DREAMS  .  .  .  .102 
I  WILL  HAVE  TO  Kiss  .  .  .  .103 


CONTENTS  ix 

PAGE 

THE  STORM  .         .          .         .         ;     104 

REST,  MY  SWEET  .         .         .         .         .106 

THE  CHALLENGE  .         .         .         .         .107 

BECAUSE       ......     108 

YOUR  MOTHER'S  SON     ....     109 

IN  MY  AGONY        .         .         .         .         .no 

How  MAY  I  AS  A  RUNNER?  .         .in 

THOU  EAGLE          .         .         .         .         .112 

THY  SOLITUDE       .         .         .         .         .113 

UNDER  THE  STARS          .         .         .         .114 

WHEN  I  UNCAPTAINED  Go  .         .115 

MY  DEAR      .         .         .         .         .         .116 

WHEN  THE  STORM  BREAKS     .         .  117 

WE  Two 118 

YOUR  TRUE  POWER       .         .         .  119 

MY  STATELY  LILY          .         .         .         .120 

Two  WINGS  .....     121 

IN  THE  POOL         .....     122 

THIS  MOTHER-LOVE       .         .         .         .123 

THE  LOVE     ......     124 

IN  AN  OLD  ORCHARD     ....     125 

WHAT  MIGHTY  WOOING  126 


x  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

HANDS,  O  SINGING  HANDS     .         ...       .  127 

THE  BATTLE  is  TOLD    .         ,         .         .  129 

THESE  HOURS        .         .         *         .         .  130 

ALTHOUGH  THE  SEA       .         .         .         .  131 

A  WANDERER        .         .         .        .'•„  •'•      .  132 

THE  SEA 133 

LET  SILENCE  BE  THE  CROWN     .         .         .  134 

MY  STRENGTH       .         .         .  135 
PROUD  HORSEMAN          .         .         .         .136 

IN  THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  SEA           .         .  137 

THE  HAND  OF  GOD        .         .         .         .  138 

SOME  DAY    ......  139 

A  SONG         .         .         .         .          .         .  140 

WHAT  is  SORROW,  CHILD?      .         .         .  141 

WHY  LOSE  OUR  WAY    ....  142 

GOD  WAS  THERE   .....  143 

LOVE  CRUCIFIED    .....  144 

MY  GARDEN          .....  145 

YESTERDAY   .         ....          .  146 

MY  SPIRIT  TO  ME                                      .  147 

To  MY  SPIRIT        .         .      '.-.  .       .         .  148 

You  BROUGHT  ME  JOY          ..         .         .  149 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

ONCE,  LONG  AGO  .         .         .       • .-    150 

MY  PRIDE    ......     152 

MY  HEART   ......     153 

LOVE  AND  YOU      .....     155 

MY  WINGS  ARE  BOUND          .         .         .156 
WHO  STRIKES  TO  KILL  .         .         .     157 

A  PRAYER     ......     158 

ON  STARLIT  NIGHTS       .         .         .         .     159 

LIKE  A  LOTUS       .....     160 

OTHER  VOICES       .         .         .         .         .161 

How  FIND  MY  WAY?     ....     163 

I  DID  NOT  KNOW          ....     164 

LOT'S  WIFE  ......     165 

STRANGE  WOMAN  .         .         .         .         .166 

MY  WOUNDS         .....     167 

HE  SHALL  BE  FREE       .         .         .         .168 

THE  WAY  TO  THEE        .         .         .         .169 

LOVE  LIKE  MINE  .         .         .         .170 

SLEEP  WITH  THY  FATHERS      .         .         -171 
THY  LOVING          .         .         .         .         .172 

WHERE  THE  CAMELS  WAIT    .         .  173 

I  AM  WEARY         .         .         .         .  174 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

You  HAVE  so  LOVED  MY  BEAUTY  .     175 

THE  CORNFIELDS  .         .         .         .176 

THE  HAND  THAT  WOUNDED  YOU    ,         .     177 
I  WOULD  LOVE  YOU       .         .  .  .     178 

NOTHING  TO  SAY  .         .         .         ,     179 

MY  HAND     .         .         .         .         .  180 

GIVE  ME  A  WORLD         ....     181 

SEEK  WITHIN        .         .         .         .         .182 

HERE  AMONG  THE  RUINS       .         .         .183 
MY  WINE     ......     184 

DEAD  DAYS  .....     185 

BROKEN  WINGS     .         .         .         .         .186 

A  STRANGE  EPITAPH      .         .         .         .187 

WAR 188 

A  DERELICT  .         .         .         .  189 

LOST  DREAMS  .....  191 
YOUR  CUP  AND  MINE  .  .  .  .192" 
EAST  AND  WEST  .  .  .  .  .193 
A  ROSE  GARDEN  .  .  .  .  .194 
MY  LOVING  .  .  .  .  .  195 

PRIDE  AND  SELF  .  .  .  .  .196 
THY  LOST  LIBIDO  .  .  .  .  197 


CONTENTS  xiii 

PAGE 

THE  RAINBOW 200 

THE  WINE    ......  201 

FOR  LOVE  I  ONCE  HAVE  KNOWN      .         .  202 

THE  DEATH  I  SEE         .         .         .         .  203 

LIFE  is  CALLING  .....  205 

WHY?  .......  206 

YOUR  SHADOW      .....  207 

THE  GREAT  GATES        ....  208 

MY  SONG 209 

A-WiNG 214 

WERE  YOU  THE  SEA      ....  215 

IN  OTHER  EYES    .....  217 

PURPLE         ......  218 

THE  SPIRIT'S  DREAM     .         .         .         .219 

To  MY  SONS          .....  220 

THE  EMPTY  CUP  .         .         .         .         .221 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  LIFE          .         .         .  222 

MY  HANDS 223 

IN  THE  NIGHT       .....  224 

DAY  AND  NIGHT   .....  225 

How  Do  I  KNOW?        ....  226 

THE  SACRIFICE  228 


xiv  CONTENTS 

PAGB 

THE  TEMPLE  OF  YOUR  LOVE         ;.      . .-..  229 

WHITE  NIGHTS      .         .         .                 .  231 

SCATTERED  DREAMS       .  •       .         .  •  :   .  232 

HEARTS  MAY  DIE          .         .         .         .  233 

IN  SABLE  WINGS           .         .        ...  234 

As  THE  SEA          .....  235 

HAD  WE  Two  KNOWN  .         .         .         ..  236 

MY  SONS      ......  237 

CLOSE  THE  BOOK           .         .         .         .  239 


The  Winged  Spirit 


THE  WINGED  SPIRIT 

O  LOVE  thou  winged  spirit  of  all  Life, 

In  whom  are  all  things,   and  from  whom  all 

things  spring, 
Who  hast  brought  me  unscathed  through  this 

tangled  web  of  life, 

Unveiling  to  me  the  real  and  the  unreal, 
Hast  thou  led  my  proud  spirit  through  this  world 

alone, 
And  brought  me  to  thy  throne  at  last  uncon- 

quered, 
That  thou  mayest  test  me  in  this  hour  of  thy 

triumph? 

Would'st  thou  tempt  me  now  to  believe 
Thou  art  not  real,  that  I  have  followed  but  a 

dream? 

O  Love,  though  conquered,  yet  shall  I  go  un 
crowned, 

Rather  than  take  of  thee  less  than  thy  all, 
Less  than  being  one  with  thee. 


LOVE 

LOVE  is  bread  to  one  who  hungers, 

The  cup  to  him  who  thirsts; 

There  is  no  wrong  it  may  not  compass, 

No  grief  it  may  not  stay; 

There  is  no  hurt,  nor  pain,  nor  sin 

It  cannot  take  away. 

There  is  no  thought  beyond  Love's  realm, 
No  mystic  world  to  seek  afar, 
There  is  no  greater  force  on  earth — 
No  guide  more  sure  than  this, 
No  god  beyond  the  perfect  Love — 
There  is  no  god  but  This. 


MY  HEART  IS  STILLED 

MY  heart  is  stilled  at  last  to  hold  the  joy  of 

life, 
As  seas  that  catch  the  colours  of  the  passing 

day. 


MY  MATE  SHALL  HOLD  ME 

MY  mate  shall  hold  me  by  his  love  alone, 
No  other  force  could  weld  us  two  as  one; 
And  I  shall  know  him  by  his  voice,  whose  tone 
Shall  stir  within  my  breast,  when  day  is  done, 
That  mystic  spirit  of  the  sleeping  sea 
Which  mirrors  sunset  skies  and  leaves  me  free 
To  dream  of  battles  he  has  fought  and  won. 

And  I  shall  know  him  by  his  thoughtful  eyes 
That  hold  within  their  depth  a  smouldering  fire, 
To  flare  at  times,  and  die  when  passion  dies — 
My  calumet — a  consecrated  pyre — 
There,  thought  and  tenderness  will  never  sleep, 
But  creeping,  ever  on  the  watch,  will  keep 
My  love  awake  to  meet  his  full  desire. 

And  when  I  see  it  I  shall  know  his  hand, 
Then  most  acutely  when  it  touches  me, 
And  sues  for  love  it  knows  it  may  command. 
Much  as  the  sacred  font  within  the  See 
Is  blessed  by  contact,  so  shall  I  be  blest — 
Close    held    against    his    heart,    and    knowing 

rest — 
The  rest  and  peace  of  Love's  community. 


THE  AGE-LONG  SONG 

WHEN  sap  is  flowing  in  each  leaf  and  tree, 
And  birds  are  breasting  northward  on  the  wing, 
Each  bird  in  turn  will  feel  himself  to  be 
The  soul,  the  one  interpreter,  of  Spring; 
And,  though  he  sing  his  love,  the  age-long  song 
We  hear  is  Time's.     For  unto  Time  belong 
All  notes, — to  Time  all  songs  that  we  may  sing. 

And  though  the  song  within  my  heart  is  old, 

Borne  down  the  ages  on  some  mystic  wings 

I  sense  yet  never  see,  it  will  unfold 

Anew  the  message,  gladden  as  it  sings, 

And  with  the  bird's  note,  breasting  wing  with 

wing, 

Will  bear  my  love  the  passion  which  I  sing, 
And  fire  his  heart  as  Nature  fires  the  Spring's. 


EVER   AS  ONE 

WE    two   who've   loved    shall    ever   meet    and 

merge — 

Shall  ever  be  as  one.     Always  the  soul 
Of   each,    one   force   shall    drive   with   restless 

urge, 

Until  this  scattered  star-dust  is  made  whole — 
We  two  again  as  one.     What  though  our  forms 
Be  changed,  far  driven  as  the  sea  in  storms, 
Ever  as  one  we'll  reach  the  final  goal. 


SILENTLY  THE  WILLOW  WEAVES 

(Weaving) 

SILENTLY  the  willow  weaves 

Its  long,  slim  leaves 
Of  shining  jade,  through 
Skies  of  sapphire  blue, 

And  Spring  is  here. 

(Drawing) 

Creeping  vine  and  branches  trace 
Their  course  and  interlace 
An  eerie  grace  and  sheen 
Upon  the  jewelled  screen 

That  Summer  makes. 

(Painting) 

Nature's  palette  is  aglow 
With  rainbow  tints  that  come  and  go, 
Though  rich  the  harvest  for  her  brush — 
Gone  is  the  thrush, 

When  Autumn  wakes. 

(Sculpture) 

A  leaden  sky  is  piling  high  a  drift 
Of  snow  which  Winter's  wind  will  shift 
To  serried  rows  and  later  mould 
And  carve  in  captured  cold, 
When  dead  the  year. 

7 


YELLOW  ROSES 

You  gave  me  yellow  roses  as  we  stood 

Together  in  the  autumn  wood, 
And  later,  crouching  in  the  path,  you  said 

That  I  should  wear  your  ring  till  dead, 
And  slipped  a  yellow  diamond  on  my  hand, 

A  diamond  held  with  golden  band. 
The  while  the  sunset  glowed  upon  the  place 

And  left  a  halo  round  your  face. 
And   when   the   shadows   gathered    'neath    the 
hill, 

And  the  moon  came,  you  held  me  still. 

The  morrow  saw  you  on  your  way  to  France. 

My  hand  no  longer  wears  the  golden  ring, 

And  though  my  heart  may  sometime  sing 
With  the  old  rapture,  and  I  seem  the  same, 

Rejoicing  in  your  well-earned  name, 
My  life  is  lived  within  a  garden  small, 

Where  yellow  roses  climb  the  wall; 
Where  in  the  home  the  saffron  bowls  still  hold 

The  yellow  rose  of  purest  gold. 


WHEN    I   WAS   TEN 

I  LOVED  you  then — 

When  I  was  ten 
And  you  sixteen — 
What  might  have  been 

Then  long  ago 

We'll  never  know. 
When  I  was  ten 
And  you  sixteen, 

I  wish  you'd  seen 

I  loved  you  then; 
When  I  was  ten 
And  you  sixteen! 


GRIEVE   NOT 

GRIEVE  not  for  women  when  they  weep ; 
Their  hearts  o'erburdened  with  their  pain, 
They  soon  will  find  relief.     Who  steep 
Themselves  in  tears  remove  the  strain 
And  grieve  but  for  themselves.     They  keep 
The  cross  who  cannot  weep  in  pain, 
Whose  tide  will  lead  them  to  the  deep 
Beyond  themselves,  then  turn  again 
And  bring  them  back  to  us  on  shore, 
Their  bitterness  and  agony 
Appeased  by  all  the  pain  that's  gone  before. 


10 


WITH  BABE  ON  ARM 

WITH  babe  on  arm,  weary  from  the  load 
Which  she  had  carried  all  day  in  the  rain, 
Her  clothes  bespattered  by  the  muddy,  road 
She  joined  the  crowd  awaiting  the  late  train 
To  London.     In  her  eye  no  ray  of  hope, 
Or  faith,  or  courage  left.     We  all  could  see 
Life  had  been  such,  she  could  no  longer  cope 
Single-handed  with  its  grim  tragedy; 
And  yet  a  hostile  look  from  every  eye 
Was  cast  upon  the  hungry  child  that  wailed 
And  fretted,  breaking  thus  the  peace.     And  I, 
A  mother,  knew  this  mother's  milk  had  failed 
Or  did  not  satisfy  the  child,  so  sought 
And  gave  it  milk  from  my  own  breast. 

I  know  no  artist  yet  has  ever  caught 
That  real  madonna  with  her  child  at  rest. 


ii 


SPIRITS 

WHY  is  it  that,  in  all  the  wild  tangle 

Of  Nature's  garden,  we  become  conscious 

Of  the  throbbing  of  some  wild  spirits? 

The  sough  and  the  sail,  the  moan  in  the  pine 

Tell  of  a  mother's  grief.     In  the  sunlight 

Where  the  wind  now  wantons  with  the  flowers, 

We  know  the  soul  of  the  dead  infant 

Has  won  freedom  and  peace. 


12 


I'M  ALONE  TONIGHT 

I'M  alone  tonight, 

From  the  sea 

The  moon  has  risen  mellow 

And  full. 

As  it  climbs,  the  bayisteals  its  colour; 

A  tree  shows  against  the  moonlight — 

There,  turkeys  are  roosting 

For  the  night. 

From  the  meadow,  grazing  in  silence 

A  flock  of  sheep  passes, 

Like  a  mass  of  drifting  cloud. 

I  hear  the  call  of  a  mallard, 

The  honking  of  wild  geese 

Flying  south. 

Within  the  house  the  fire  glows, 

My  candle  sputters, 

A  cricket  sings  upon  the  hearth — 

Reuben  snores. 


THE  BREAD 

I  WISH  that  day,   when  she  had  burned  the 

bread, 

I'd  gone  to  her,  and  to  her  gently  said: 
"I  wonder  if  the  sun  had  always  shone, 
And  had  not  gone  to  rest  when  day  was  done, 
And  there  had  been  no  night  to  bring  you  rest, 
When  you  were  spent  and  weary  and  oppressed, 
Would  you  still  feel  your  God  watched  o'er  your 

head?.  ..." 
She   would   not   then   have   burned   again   the 

bread. 


SUNSET,  WERNERSV1LLE,  PA. 

THE  emerald  fields  of  Winter  wheat  now  tint 
The  meadows  green,  save  where  the  earth  new- 
sown 
Is   bare  and   brown,    or   corn   shocks   stand  in 

rows 

Between  the  piles  of  golden  grain.     A  flint 
Road,  white  in  the  setting  Autumn  sun  goes 
Off  among  the  mountains.     A  mist  blown 
Up  the  valley  by  a  sultry  breeze  spills 
A  violent  haze  over  all  the  hills, 
The  sun  a  ball  of  crimson.     There's  a  tone  . 
Of  deeper  purple  in  the  vales,  shadows 
Lengthen.     A  chill  creeps  up,  bringing  a  hint 
Of  frost,  as  all  the  brilliant  colour  glows, 
Then  dims  and  fades  away.     Far  off,  a  lone 
Cow-bell  tinkles  as  cattle  seek  the  close. 


IF  YOU  FLY 

IF  you  fly 

Across  the  sea, 

There  will  my  spirit  be. 

Hearing  your  call 

Across  the  world, 

Still  will  I  follow, 

To  come  again 

To  you. 

Still  will  I  smile 

Through  mile  on  mile 

Of  pain. 

How  may  there  be 

Ever  again 

Forme 

Suffering  and  pain. 

Having  loved 

And  knowing  you, 

Life  will  ever  be 

For  me 

A  winning  home 

Again 

To  you. 


16 


DAYBREAK,  NEW  YORK 

BRIDGES  which  seem  to  float  in  mist 

Swing  across  the  river : 

And  spires  emerge  from  out  the  gloom, 

As  daylight  breaks  aslant  the  city. 

Sunlight,  catching  the  golden  pinacle 

Of  the  great  tower, 

Lights  a  taper  for  the  day; 

Then  robed  in  pink, 

Creeps  down  the  tower's  eastern  wall, 

To  lose  itself  at  last 

In  mist  and  city  smoke. 


MY   PASSION 

A  LEAN-BELLIED  wolf,  prowling  hungry-eyed, 
Ready  to  destroy  all  I  hold  most  dear; 
Held  submissive  by  some  force  sensed  in  me 
This  wild,  untamed  creature  is  brought  to  heel. 
Would  I  then  have  it  other  than  it  is? 
Have  it  a  lamb,  content  to  nibble  grass? 
No!  a  thousand  times  No!     Let  it  be  wild, 
The  thing  that  it  is.     I  would  have  it  lean, 
Hard  driven  by  hunger  and  thirst,  but  wild, 
And  true  to  me — one  that  calls  upon  all, 
All  that  is  in  me  to  hold  it  in  check 
When  it  must  hunt  or  die,  I'll  let  it  go, 
I'll  hunt  with  it ;  that  same  power  restrained 
Shall  then  be  let  loose  to  drive  this  creature 
To  its  prey  whose  death  shall  make  us  three  one. 


18 


THE  SUN  CAN  LIGHT 

THE  sun  can  only  light  one  side  the  tree, 

There  on  the  other  side  must  the  shadow  be; 

When  thrown  by  death  in  deep  obscurity, 
Light  too  is  there,  if  only  we  will  see. 

So  light  and  darkness  changing  constantly, 
As  sun  and  shadow  round  about  the  tree, 

Are  but  the  symbols  of  infinity, 

Life's  constant  change  and  mutability. 


THE  WOMAN 

You  scorn  my  son,  who  has  to  bear  my  name 
Because  his  father  left  me  to  my  "  shame. " 
You  thrust  my  name  upon  him  as  a  slight, 
I  give  it  proudly — deem  it  his  by  right. 
By  birth  my  power  of  motherhood  to  me 
Was  given,  and  mine  remains,  though  Property 
This  new-found  god  of  man,  o'errides  the  earth 
And  drives  away  the  sanctity  of  birth. 
The  mother's  task  to  see  her  son  has  health, 
And  no  man  curse  him  with  his  wealth, 
To  make  of  him  a  slave.     He  shall  be  free, 
Free  and  untrammelled,  free  to  work  and  make 
The  place  he  need  in  life  for  his  soul's  sake. 
Let  all  men,  if  they  will,  my  son  disown, 
He's  none  of  theirs,  nor  is  he  all  my  own. 
Still,  though  you  scorn  me,  yet  am  I  a  wife, 
Wife  to  the  soul-creating  father,  Life. 


20 


NEW  YORK 

FROM  my  window 

I  look  down  upon  the  city — 

Sleeping  in  the  early  morning  sun; 

Its  many  roofs  and  buildings 

Have  the  wealth  and  colour 

Of  an  Oriental  rug — 

A  rug  for  prayer — 

There,  even  as  the  city  sleeps, 

I  seem  to  see  its  prostrate  soul 

Mumbling  a  prayer  to  Mammon. 


21 


GOD  IS  IN  THE  WHOLE 

THAT  man  who  fails  to  see  in  wrong,  in  sin 
Darkness  where  light  has  not  as  yet  come  in, 
Who  does  not  see  the  God  in  wrong,  or  sight 
The  soul  struggling  blindly  to  the  light, 
Has  no  conception  of  a  God  that  lives 
In  every  particle  of  earth,  he  gives 
To  God  the  limit  of  his  own  poor  soul ; 
He  cannot  see  that  God  is  in  the  whole. 


22 


OUR  DREAMS 

WHAT  if  our  dreams  are  golden,  good  to  see 
As  lighted  beacons  shining  on  the  sea, 

What  though  we  glimpse  them  fleeting  in  a 
mist, 

Or  sense  them  in  the  joy  of  lips  new-kissed? 
What  though  we  hear  them  in  a  tumbling  brook 
Or  scent  them  in  the  pools  in  spring,  or  look 

For  them  in  sunset  skies?     We  know  they 

wing 

To  us  in  every  form  that  Beauty  takes, 
And  in  her  coming,  all  our  thought  awakes 

To  sing  the  heart's  new  impetus  to  Spring. 

Dreams  come  as  premonitions  of  new  birth, 
They  come  to  us  as  symbols  sprung  from  earth, 

Of  ever  changing  life,  of  growth  to  be, 

Symbols  of  life,  of  immortality. 


MY  CHILD  IS  DEAD 

My  child  is  dead — 

Yea — though  God  has  punished, 

I  have  not  sinned, 

Nor  wronged  a  human  soul, 

In  thought 

Or  deed. 
My  child  is  dead — 

Aye — and  they  will  bury  him; 

Unknowing  they  will  take  my  life 

And  lay  it  in  the  tomb 

To  be 

Near  him. 
My  child  is  dead. 

Oh,  show  me  where  the  justice, , 

Where  the  wrong  in  me! 

Though  I  have  failed 

I'm  blind— 

I  cannot  see. 
My  child  is  dead. 


24 


MY  THOUGHTS  GO  FREE 

LET  all  my  thoughts  go  free  on  tireless  wings, 
For  they  must  travel  over  plain  and  steep, 
The  vast  untrammelled  stretches  of  the  deep, 
In  search  of  truth,  which  means  that  they  must 

win 

Beauty  from  corruption,  find  good  in  sin, 
Seek  out  the  soul  o'er-burdened  with  life's  pain, 
Fallen  and  crushed,  who  cannot  rise  again; 
Must  find  for  him  the  path  he  knows  not  of ; 
Must  give  him  hope  and  gird  his  loins  with 

love, 

That  in  his  quest  love  hide  his  nakedness 
And  make  his  struggle  sure.     My  tenderness 
Of  thought  unarmed  must  free  life's  cruelty 
From  chains  it  seems  to  wear,  that  it  may  be 
Revealed  as  Truth,  whose  hidden  soul  is  worth 
The  struggle  and  the  pain  before  its  birth. 
My  thoughts  must  bring  me  back  no  word  of 

wrong 

I  may  not  right  and  turn  to  joyous  song; 
And  should  they  bring  some  evil,    poisonous 

thing 
I'll  search  its  heart  and  find  its  jewelled  wing. 

25 


26  MY  THOUGHTS  GO  FREE 

My  thoughts  shall  be  the  servants  of  my  will, 
To  seek  the  Truth,  to  triumph  over  ill. 
As  homing  pigeons  shall  they  all  go  free. 
And  they  shall  bring  me  word  of  victory. 


MY  BURDEN 

I  WAS  weary  of  my  burden, 

Weary  of  my  years, 

Weary  of  the  load 

I  carried;  weary 

Of  the  hunger  of  my  soul 

Too  long  denied; 

Weary  of  the  sin 

Of  dreary  lives 

That  see  no  hope, 

No  light 

To  live  in. 

I  was  weary  of  my  tears, 

The  unshed  tears 

Of  youth. 

The  quest  for  Beauty 
Led  me  far; 
I  would  not  pause, 
I  could  not  rest, 
Because  of  fear 
The  best  would  so  escape; 
1  would  not  listen 
When  my  soul  cried  out 
And  asked  for  bread, 
27 


28  MY  BURDEN 

I  would  not  hear 

For  fear 

That  beauty 

Just  ahead 

Would  take  some  eerie  road 

I  could  not  find. 

I  was  weary  of  my  burden, 

Weary  of  the  load 

I  carried 

Weary  of  the  years. 

Within  my  soul 
Denied  and  starved 
By  me 
Had  Beauty  slept  .  .  . 

Her  lamp  now  in  my  hand 

I  am  no  longer 

Weary  of  the  load 

I  carry, 

Or  weary  of  the  years. 

The  unshed  tears 

Of  youth 

In  rainbows 

Send  a  glow 

Of  truth 

On  dreams 

Which  all  come  true. 

I  am  not  weary 

As  I  go, 


MY  BURDEN  29 

I  do  not  feel  the  years. 

With  the  light 

I  bear 

The  blind  can  see, 

The  deaf  can  hear 

The  sad  rejoice 

And  many  voices  sing 

The  peace 

I  bring, 

Who  am  no  longer  weary, 

Who  do  not  feel  the  years. 


WOMAN 

MY  mother,  Earth, 

Is  plowed 

And  harrowed 

For  the  sowing. 

Like  my  mother,  Earth, 

I  bear  the  blossoms, 

I  do  the  growing, 

I  bear  the  fruit, 

The  seed 

For  sowing. 


A  MARCH  OF  TREES 

THE  moon  will  lead  a  march  of  trees 
To  her  theatre  in  the  wood, 
And  watch  their  solemn  pace, 
In  flank  and  column, 
Around  this  magic  place. 

When  a  cloud  slips  past  the  moon 

The  last  of  the  toiling  column  fades, 

And  night  steals  out, 

To  coil  about 

These  phantom  shades. 


PAN  PIPING 

I  HEARD  Pan  piping  on  the  hill, 

Those  notes 

So  mellow  and  so  full, 

Could  only  come 

From  out  his  reeds. 

There's  dancing  on  the  hill. 

Blown  here, 

Upon  the  breeze, 

There  comes 

A  rustle, 

And  a  song, 

Through  the  trees 

I  hear 

The  beat  of  hidden  hoofs. 

I  heard  Pan  piping  on  the  hill, 

And  followed  after. 

Here 

Where  I  stand, 

The  sand 

Is  pied  with  hoof-prints — 

I  hear  him  still, 

32 


PAN  PIPING  33 


Beyond  the  hill  and  hollow, 

Where  joy 

And  laughter 

Go— 

I  follow. 


JEWELS 

DIAMONDS 

THESE  diamonds 

That  you  bring 

Are  singing  of  the  light, 

A  myriad  suns 

Are  dancing  here, 

And  setting, 

As  drop  by  drop 

They  form  a  river 

Flowing,  flowing, 

Entrancing,  iridescent 

As  the  sea. 

Out  of  the  womb 

Of  earth  they  come, 

To  tell  us  that  the  tomb 

Is  but  another  birth ; 

Where  the  darkness  is, 

There  too 

Shall  we  find  the  light. 

SAPPHIRES 

And  sapphires,  garnered 
From  the  earth, 

34 


JEWELS  -       35 


Where,  from  seeming  sleep, 

In  dungeons  deep, 

Below  the  ground, 

They  had  their  birth. 

The  dim  oblivion 

Of  years  could  not 

Obliterate 

The  memory  of 

This  beauty  blue, 

Drawn  by  earth 

For  ages  from  the  living  sky, 

Whose  empire 

Blossoms  now 

In  bluer  blossoms 

Than  the  sea, 

Who  daily  steals 

Her  blue, 

This  jeweled  blue 

Of  sapphires 

Brought  by  you 

Tome. 

A    PEARL 

A  pearl, 

Wrought  beneath  the  sea, 

Where  tenderly 

A  simple  creature 

Builds  about 

Its  pain, 

Hourly  building  round 


36  JEWELS 

The  grain 

Of  sand  that  tortures, 

The  beauty 

Of  this  priceless  gem, — 

Symbol  of  tenderness. 

Pure  milk 

Of  human  kindness 

Poured  upon  your  wound 

Has  thus  up-built 

This  rounded  cup. 

The  curved  and  rounded  breast 

Of  a  madonna 

Is  not  more  curved, 

More  rounded 

Than  the  round 

And  curve 

You  found, 

To  shape  your  wound  to. 

RUBIES 

You  bring  me  rubies, 

The  sparkling  blood, 

The  wine  of  life. 

You,  who  bring  me  these, 

Have  felt  the  Spring, 

Have  reached  the  heart  of  things, 

Have  felt  life  thrill 

Within  the  cup, 

Holding  still 


JEWELS  37 


The  leas  you  will  not  drain. 

Your  lips  and  mine 

Have  touched, 

Have  tasted  of  the  wine, 

Who  bear  the  stain 

Of  rubies 

On  our  lips. 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  MY  LOVE 

THE  empire  of  my  love  shall  be 

A  true  democracy, 

Where  from  the  throne,  uncrowned, 

In  all  humility,  I  go 

To  seek  and  give  to  those  who  need. 

The  love  I  bear  shall  be  a  crown 

That  each  shall  wear. 


TO  HANIEL 

AH,  Haniel,  No. 

Though  "  ancient  old 

Adagios 

And  multo  convivaces" 

Of  the  winds  of  heaven 

Have  played 

Upon  the  harp-strings 

Of  my  heart, 

In  timeless  Springs, 

Bringing  the  peace 

Of  old, 

Yet 

The  love  I  sing 

Is  not  the  music 

Of  the  spheres, 

The  muted  music 

Of  the  years ; 

It  is  a  song 

Of  long  ago, 

A  song 

Of  long  suppressed  desires, 

Love  evoked, 

Smouldering 

In  smoke, 

39 


40  TO  HANIEL 

Since  Beauty  woke. 

It  is  the  song, 

It  is  the  fire,  of  the  souls 

Among  the  throng, 

The  song 

Of  those 

Who  pant 

To  reach  her  goal. 


TO  HELEN 

WHAT  if  she  keep  her  calm, 

Still  feels  life 

Leaves  no  illusions, 

With  this  beauty  in  her  eyes. 

Though  storms  may  rage 

Upon  the  sea, 

Tempest  tossed, 

With  waves  that  rift  and  drive 

The  spindrift 

Flying  high, 

Below  the  surface 

That  we  see 

The  deep  is  never 

Touched. 

The  peace  that  sleeps 

We  feel 

But  do  not  see. 

Then,  when  the  storm 

Is  passed,  we  see 

At  last  perfected 

The  reflected  beauty 

Of  sky,  of  tree, 

Of  bird 

41 


42  TO  HELEN 

Flying  high 

Across  the  sky. 

The  beauty  mirrored  here. 

This  beauty  which  we  sense 

Is  from  the  deep ; 

The  light 

The  soul  will  keep 

To  catch  the  wing 

Of  birds  in  flight, 

The  light  which  rights 

The  wrong, 

Interpreting 

The  feathered  song, 

Heard  in  the  Spring. 

The  beauty 

In  the  sea 

Is  all  of  this, 

And  since  you  have  it  too 

In  you  we  sense 

The  deeps, 

And  know  with  you 

That  Beauty  never  sleeps. 


YOU  ASK  ME  IF  I  LOVE  YOU 

You  ask  me  if  I  love  you, 
And  I  answer  that  I  do. 

You  ask  me  why  I  love  you, 
And  I  find  it  hard  to  say; 
In  your  eyes  there  is  a  light 
Of  truth  that  beckons, 
That  clearly  points  the  way ; 
Though  there  is  light  in  mine, 
It  pales  before  this  brighter  ray. 
Because  I  seek  the  Truth 
I  come  to  you. 
You  answer  every  need. 
Your  love  is  all  the  reason 
That  my  love  can  give 
For  loving  you. 

Love  you  always? 
That  I  cannot  say, 
It  rests  with  you, 
You  lead  me  now, 
You  point  the  way 
And  I  follow  gladly, 
While  I  may. 
Love  is  an  awakening, 

43 


44        YOU  ASK  ME  IF  I  LOVE  YOU 

Another  birth — 

A  closer  homing 

To  our  mother,  Earth. 

Love,  the  light  we  follow, 

For  Love  is  Truth. 

I  shall  love  you  always, 

Yet  shall  ever  seek  and  follow 

The  brighter  light— 

The  fuller  love, 

The  larger  truth  absorbs  the  lesser, 

Else  why  my  love  for  you? 


THE  INNER  FLAME 

THE  light 

Which  pierces  through 

The  dark 

To  flame 

Within  the  soul  of  man, 

The  light  that  fires 

The  imagination, 

Awakening  desire, 

The  light  that  rises 

And  that  flares 

Through  lore  and  legend 

Of  the  past 

Inspiring  a  race 

In  war,  in  sacrifice, 

The  light  the  Buddha  saw 

And  Christ, 

The  light 

The  hunger  of  the  spirit 

Still  pursues 

And  never  overtakes, 

Nor  will 

Till  man  awakes. 

When  the  awakening  conies 
Then  will  he  see 

45 


46  THE  INNER  FLAME 

Himself 

The  bearer  of  the  torch, 

His  soul 

The  only  light 

His  world  will  ever  know, 

And  in  this  light 

He'll  see 

Himself 

As  one  with  man 

And  God, 

Himself  infinity. 


POETRY— I 

SOMETHING  we  feel 
Yet  never  touch, 
Something  that  will  flee 
Swift  and  sure 
From  over-much 
Pursuing. 

Thought,  illusive, 
Struggling  through  art 
To  birth 

God's  soul 

On  earth 

Moulding  man's  spirit 

From  his  heart 

Of  clay. 


47 


POETRY— II 

THE  infant  Soul, 

Suckling  at  the  breast 

Of  its  mother,  Earth, 

With  wide  blue  eyes 

That  stare 

Unseeing 

Into  the  wider  blue 

Of  sky, 

Not  knowing  of  its  birth, 

Yet  dreaming  to  its  goal. 


48 


YOUR  ARMS  HAVE  HELD  ME 

Now  that  your  arms  have  held  me, 

Now  that  our  love  is  told, 

Your  spirit  holds  me  close 

And  I  am  one  with  you — 

One  with  all  those  lovers 

Who  have  known 

The  perfect  love. 

Now  that  I  know, 
Now  that  I  am  one  with  you, 
One  spirit  and  one  flesh, 
My  blindness  slips  away — 
I  feel  the  wisdom  of  the  years 
Is  here  in  me, 
Where  darkness  was 
Now  is  there  light. 

O  thoughts  that  hamper, 
Words  that  bind  and  cramp 
And  hold  me  down, 
Who  would  be  free, 
Free  to  light  the  lamp 
For  those  who  cannot  see, 
4  49 


50   YOUR  ARMS  HAVE  HELD  ME 

How  may  I  now 

Disclose  the  truth,  how  bare 

This  beauty  and  this  power 

To  those  who  have  no  eyes  to  see? 

How  bring  to  the  sense  of  them 

That  sleep,  the  deep  significance 

Of  love,  the  love  that  unifies 

And  keeps  the  spirit  and  the  flesh 

One  force — the  highest  and  the  best, 

That  never  rests  or  dies, 

The  love,  whose  strength  will  rise 

Above  all  ill,  triumphing  still 

In  death? 


THE  UNIVERSE 

NOTHING  in  the  universe  is  fixed, 
Nor  God — nor  purpose. 


THOSE  WHO  HAVE  KNOWN  LOVE 

To  those  who  have  known  love 

There  is  no  pain, 

For  the  self  is  dead. 

This  joy  once  known  brings 

To  the  troubled  souls  of  men 

A  peace  beyond  understanding, 

The  peace  we  yearly  feel 

Following  the  long  travail  of  Earth 

When  Spring  has  birth, 

When,  once  again,  from  pain 

We  sense  at  last 

The  triumph  of  the  truth, 

When  from  sleep,  from  seeming  death, 

From  strife,  there  comes  new  life. 


WE  LIVE  AGAIN 

LOVE,  though  yet  it  may  be  young, 
Knows  it  is  a  forgetting  of  the  self, 
A  daily  death,  to  rise 
New-born  each  day, 
A  giving — utterly — 
Until  unveiled  we  stand, 
Stripped  of  all  that  holds  us 
In  the  flesh, 
Naked,  soul  to  soul. 

Love  which  holds  back 

Something  in  reserve 

Will  never  know 

The  joy  of  giving, 

The  joy  of  constant  death, 

Its  resurrection 

And  the  added  love  to  come, 

Whose  birth  is  sweet, 

For  only  in  complete 

Renunciation, 

In  claiming  nothing  for  the  self, 

We  win  the  all. 

53 


54  WE  LIVE  AGAIN 

All  that  we  give  comes  back  to  us, 

All  that  we  give  at  death 

Will  live  again, 

Will  live  in  countless  glorious  ways. 


THE  SPIRIT  IS  THE  FLAME 

THE  spirit  is  the  flame 
Which  fires  the  clay,  and  glows 
With  every  passing  breath, 
Yet  never  dies. 
It  is  the  eternal  heart  of  Life, 
From  which  Love's  blossoms  spring, 
The  blossoms  of  our  single  loves, 
Whose  hour  is  timed, 
They  come, 
They  go, 

With  every  season's  change, 
They  seed, 
They  sow, 

They  cover  every  range 
Of  human  pain  and  woe. 
They  spread  their  hovering  wings 
Of  colour  on  all  dead  things  of  life, 
They  succour  those 
Who  have  lost  hope, 
And  cajn  no  longer  cope  with  life, 
Whose  note  and  song 
Have  died  in  pain, 
Who  may  not  rise  again 
To  sing  on  wings  of  song. 
55 


LOVE  EVERYWHERE 

Love  is, 
Love  is  here, 
Love  is  there, 
Love  is  everywhere. 

Hearts  sigh, 
Here, 
There, 
Everywhere. 

Hearts  cry, 
Hearts  cry  here, 
Hearts  cry  there, 
Hearts  cry  everywhere. 

Hearts  die, 
Here, 
There, 
Everywhere. 

Love  lives, 
Love  lives  here, 
Love  lives  there, 
Love  lives  everywhere. 


TO  AN  AVIATOR 

THOSE  who  have  pierced 

The  sky's  empyrean, 

Those  who  have  flown  so  high 

Into  the  blue, 

To  dare,  to  do, 

Like  the  sky-lark,  plowing  the  blue, 

With  waves  of  human  song, 

Have  known  the  joy  of  life, 

The  song. 

Thus  may  they  feel 

The  tragic  fall  of  pierced  wing, 

From  those  blue  heights, 

The  broken  note  in  dying  throat 

Of  those  whose  flight  is  ended, 

Whose  song  is  done. 


57 


THE  LAND  WE  NEVER  SHALL  SEE 

WHEN  tossed  upon 
Life's  troubled  sea, 
We  dream  of  a  quiet  port. 

When,  in  the  end, 
We  find  the  calm, 
We  dream  of  the  open  sea. 

Our  dreams  are  all  precious, 
And  ever  will  be, 
Whether  of  calm 
Or  open  sea, 
For  we  are  adventurers 
And  all  are  at  sea, 
Tossed  in  the  frailest  of  barques — 
Lost  in  the  gale, 
Lost  without  sail, 
Lost  in  the  dark, 
Dreaming  our  way 
To  the  land  of  our  dreams; 
Though  it  whisper, 
Though  it  call, 
We  sense  through  it  all 
A  joy  that  is  never  to  be, 
58 


THE  LAND  WE  NEVER  SHALL  SEE  59 

For  the  land  of  the  promise, 
Whether  in  port  or  at  sea, 
Is  ever  the  land 
We  never  shall  see. 


I  FEEL  YOU  IN  THE  WIND 

TO    TUDOR 

I  FEEL  you  in  the  lilting  wind, 
The  sueing  wind  that  sings, 
And  flings  and  lashes  all  the  trees, 
In  subtle  April  breeze; 
I  sense  you  in  the  shadows, 
Behind  the  boles  of  trees, 
I  feel  you  in  the  deepest  forest  glades 
Where  fawns 
And  dryads 
Reel 

And  dance, 
Dance 

To  the  reeds  of  Pan, 
Dance 

In  an  elfin  shade. 
I  feel  you  in  the  fleeting  clouds 
That  drift  in  an  April  sky, 
And  in  the  light  they  sometimes  steal 
To  hold  the  setting  sun. 
I  feel  you 

Poised  upon  the  crested  wave 
In-swinging  with  the  tide, 
60 


I  FEEL  YOU  IN  THE  WIND         61 

I  feel  your  spirit 

In  the  spindrift, 

Flying  high. 

I  feel  you  too 

When  all  the  birds  are  singing 

And  winging  home  to  rest. 


TAKE  ME 

I  ONLY  ask  that  you  will 

Take  me, 

That  you  make  me  serve 

Your  will, 

Use  me  well  or  use  me  ill, 

I'll  not  care 

If  you  but  have  your  will. 

I  only  ask  that  you  will 

Take  me 

Till  you've  had  your  fill, 

Use  me  well  or  use  me  ill, 

I'll  not  care, 

Try  to  kill  me 

If  you  will, 

I  know  the  woman 

Here  in  me 

Will  tame  the  brute 

In  you, 

And  that  your  tenderness 

Will  be 

As  tender  as  my  own 

And  when  your  heart 

Is  stilled 

62 


TAKE  ME  63 

And  you  have  had 
Your  fill, 

You  will  know  your  love 
Was  but  to  serve 
My  will! 


LIFE  ETERNAL 

THE  green  of  Life  eternal  sleeps 
Beneath  the  Winter  snows. 

Off-flinging  all  your  covering, 
As  the  Winter  goes,  you  come 
Bearing  in  your  arms  from  sleep 
The  poppy  and  the  rose. 


64 


I  AM  A  WOMAN 

I  AM  a  woman 

And  have  lived  a  woman's  way 
With  Life. 

I  am  big  with  new  life 
Soon  to  have  birth. 
Take  me  in  your  arms 
And  hold  me  there, 
For  the  treasure 
That  I  bear 
Is  rare 

And  of  great  worth. 
I  have  travelled 
Over  land  and  sea, 
Everywhere — 
Life  loving  me 
There  is  no  beauty 
Of  the  universe, 
In  the  sky 
Or  of  the  earth 
That  does  not  live  in  me. 
Life  was  prodigal  in  loving, 
Life  gave  his  all  to  me. 
There  is  no  thought 
65 


66  I  AM  A  WOMAN 

That  has  come  to  Life, 

But  Life  has  given  me. 

There  is  no  further  knowledge 

Of  the  soul 

Than  Life  has  whispered  me. 

Life  tells  me 

There  is  no  other  god 

Than  the  god  that  lives  in  me; 

I  am  burdened 

With  the  seeds  of  my  lover's  sowing. 

I  know  my  time  has  come, 

So  take  me  in  your  arms 

And  hold  me  there, 

For  the  treasure 

That  I  bear 

Is  rare, 

And  worth  your  knowing. 


ACROSS  THE  GREAT  LAGOON 

THE  moon  is  slowly  rising  in  the  east, 

Across  the  great  lagoon, 

My  lantern  on  its  bamboo  stick 

Swings  idly  in  the  breeze, 

The  petals  from  the  almond  trees 

In  quivering  silence 

Fall  imperiously  without  a  sound; 

So  Spring  slips  off  her  wedding  shift, 

And  leaves  it  on  the  ground. 

Although  I  know  it's  Summer  that  blows 

This  sultry  southern  breeze, 

In  the  magic  of  the  night  and  moon, 

Across  the  great  lagoon, 

I  see  beneath  the  trees, 

The  Winter  snows. 


WHO  KNEELS  IN  PRAYER 

WHO  kneels  in  prayer, 
Kneels  to  his  own  spirit. 


68 


TO  HANIEL 

ON    HIS    BIRTHDAY 

I  AM  sure  that  in  some  ancient  days 

And  in  some  ancient  wood, 

When  Pan  was  piping 

On  his  reeds, 

You  stood  aloof 

In  expectant  mood, 

Bright  with  childish  laughter, 

And,  as  the  illusive  echo 

Rang  through  the  wood, 

You  followed  after 

Swift  in  your  pursuing ; 

You  had  no  years  then, 

Just  pointed  ears 

And  hoofs. 

Though  now  you  count 
Your  one  score  years 
And  ten, 

And  have  the  pointed  ears, 
We  seek  some  proof 
About  the  hoofs. 
Tell  us  what  you  can, 
69 


70  TO  HANIEL 

All's  not  enough 

To  prove  you  just  a  man ! 

It  may  be  the  piping 

We  have  heard 

And  loved, 

And  the  laughter  in  the  wood 

Bring  word 

That  you  are  half  a  man. 

Would  you  tell  us  if  you  could 

The  secrets  of  the  wood 

And  if  but  a  man, 

Why  your  ears  are  pointed, 

Why  the  fawn  has  hoofs? 

Would  you  give  the  proof 

We  need  to  know 

That  you  are  Pan? 


THE  STRANGER 

SHE  scorned  me  passing, 

As  I  washed  the  floor, 

Later  I  was  but  a  human  spring 

That  opened  wide  a  door 

That  she  might  enter  in, 

And  climb  a  palace  stair. 

When  she  met  me  in  my  diamonds 

And  my  pearls — she  thought  me  fair, 

And  then  she  smiled  and  knew  me. 

And  claimed  me  as  her  friend. 

Yet  another  day  when  I  met  her  in  the  street 

And  asked  her  for  some  bre  ad,  to  the  end 

That  I  might  feed  my  starving  child 

She  turned  her  eyes  away ; 

Staggering  past  her,  spent  and  weary 

Of  my  load,  one  freezing  day, 

She  would  not  see  me  pass, 

She  was  blind  and  would  not  see. 

Flaunting  my  way,  as  a  harlot  once,  we  met 

And  again  she  scorned  me  utterly, 

Nor  did  she  know  me, 

Coming  of  another  race 

I  was  a  stranger  to  her  always, 

With  a  black  or  yellow  face; 


72  THE  STRANGER 

Again  when  I  laughed  and  danced 

In  the  joy  of  heedless  youth 

She  drove  my  joy  away, 

She  failed  to  feel  its  truth ; 

And  when  a  crippled  child 

Cried  out  in  its  pain,  her  laughter 

Drowned  its  voice.     I  thought  her  wild 

Not  to  know  this  child  was  hers. 

Poor  stranger!    Can  she  not  see 

She  lives  in  every  other  woman 

As  every  other  woman  lives  in  her  and  me? 


LET  ME  ENFOLD  YOU  ALL 

LET  me  enfold  you  all, 

For  my  heart  is  big  enough  to  hold  you; 

Come  all  you  men  and  women 

Who  have  sinned, 

And  let  me  show  you 

How  to  wash  your  sins  in  gold, 

Not  the  gold  which  may  be  bought 

And  sold,  but  the  gold 

Of  service  and  of  loving; 

Though  my  heart  is  old 

As  the  world's  sin, 

Yet  it  is  warm  and  young  with  loving, 

So  let  me  bear  the  burden  of  your  grief, 

For  I  shall  turn  it  all  to  gold 

Once  you  let  me  enfold  you, 

In  this  heart  which  is  big  enough  to  hold  you. 


73 


TO  VERNON  CASTLE 
(KILLED  IN  AVIATION  SERVICE,  Feb.  15,  1918.) 

W  E  who  have  danced  with  you 

Did  not  see  the  wings 

Upon  your  heels.  .  .  . 

When  the  trumpet  called 

You  fled  with  magic  speed, 

To  seek  your  larger  sphere, 

Which  bore  you  to  the  height 

Of  winged  dreams. 

Yet  not  content  you  went  on  wings 

Alone — out  into  the  night. 


74 


A  WAN  WILLOW 

TO  HAMILTON 

YOUR  fair,  young  body, 

Like  a  willow  wand,  bends 

And  sways  with  all  the  subtle  grace 

Of  youth,  long  and  lithe  in  limb, 

Seeking  like  the  willow  reed  the  sun. 

If  you  would  be  a  sturdy  willow  tree, 

Set  your  roots  deep  in  the  earth 

And  let  me  be 

The  lake  o'er  which  you  bend. 

For  I  have  seen  a  wan  willow 

Lean  against  a  brook, 

And  take  its  joy  in  dreaming, — 

Seen  the  joy  within  its  look 

As  it  found  its  image  in  the  brook. 

And  though  the  willow  subtly  drew  its  force 

And  built  its  strength  up  from  the  brook, 

A  time  came  yearly  when  it  gave  back  what  it 

took, 

And  the  willow  shook  out  all  its  golden  leaves, 
And  tossed  them  scattered  on  the  brook. 


75 


AN  ARROW  FROM  THE  SUN 

TO    HOPE 

HAS  your  slim,  white  body,  child, 

Come  a  shafted  arrow  from  the  sun? 

For  this  brightness  of  you 

Dazzles  in  the  whiteness 

Of  the  beauty  you  have  won. 

I  would  know  why 

You  do  wonderfully  come, 

Lithe,  and  straight  and  true! 

Swift  bearer  of  some  message 

From  the  sun, 

Some  truth  we  have  not  understood, 

Some  wrong  to  be  undone ; 

Speak!    Unloose  your  tongue, 

That  I  and  all  the  world  may  know 

From  whence  you  come, 

And  whither  you  shall  go. 


HOW  BEAR  THIS  PAIN? 

TO    CHARLES 

How  may  I  bear  this  pain? 

Must  I  see  you  come  wounded  home, 

With  all  your  glorious  beauty  gone? 

Must  that  proud  spirit 

Wear  an  alien  form? 

How  may  I  bear  this  pain, 

I,  who  have  known  my  heart 

To  ache  and  bleed, 

And  felt  my  soul  quiver 

In  the  very  pride  of  its  pain, 

That  you  might  come 

A  conquering  god  to  earth? 

How  may  I  bear  this  now — again? 


77 


HER  PLAID 

TO    HOPE 

ON  a  peg  along  the  wall 

Hangs  her  little  Scotch-plaid  frock, 

With  its  white  about  the  throat  and  sleeves. 

She  hung  it  there  before  she  went  to  sleep. 

Still  sweet  with  the  fragrance 

And  the  warmth  of  her  slim  body. 

How  it  holds  her  shape, 

And  apes  the  contour  of  her  form! 

Of  late  she's  grown  quite  tall, 

I  see  tonight  the  budding  woman 

In  her  gown  upon  the  wall. 


78 


SLOWLY  A  WOMAN  CLIMBS 

SLOWLY  a  woman  climbs  the  steps 

That  lead  her  to  her  home, 

She  drags  her  feet,  and  I  can  see 

That  she  is  weary,  weary  of  her  task 

And  the  long  day's  work. 

The  house  looks  dead,  its  windows 

Stare  empty-eyed  into  the  street, 

And  from  the  way  the  woman  walks 

I  know  her  eyes  give  back 

The  windows'  stare, 

And  by  the  way  she  turns  the  handle 

Of  the  door  and  goes  within, 

I  know  the  woman's  soul 

Is  not  in  there. 


79 


TWO  FIGURES 

Two  figures  pass  in  through  a  gate, 

To  a  place  where  people  lay  their  dead. 

A  common  thought  and  purpose 

Unites  these  two  and  makes  them  one, 

And  yet  t  subtly  feel 

By  the  touch  of  shoulders, 

Or  the  way  they  walk  and  hold  their  heads, 

A  thousand  prismic  veils 

Enfold  these  two,  they  have 

An  inner  world  their  love  has  made. 

So  do  we  sometimes  sense  a  truth 

When  never  a  word  is  said. 


80 


THE  POTTER'S  WHEEL 

As  He  shaped  the  clay 
The  Potter  thought  and  dreamed, 
And  once  He  dreamed 
To  shape  a  noble  vessel, 
And  to  give  it  life, 
And  the  vessel  He  would  fashion 
Should  be  a  goodly  thing  to  see, 
And  lovely  to  behold. 
And  as  He  wrought 
He  placed  the  infant  soul  within 
And  gave  the  vessel  life, 
And  then  He  pondered  and  was  glad. 
The  soul  was  but  a  tender  thing, 
Himself  then  did  not  know, 
And  even  as  He  wrought 
The  quivering  breath  began  to  urge 
And  then  He  turned  His  wheel, 
And  the  clay  stirred  to  form  itself, 
And  the  moving  life  within 
Molded  a  nobler  vessel. 
And  when  the  Potter 
Took  the  vessel  still  wet 
From  off  the  wheel 
He  knew  the  work  was  good, 
i  81 


82  THE  POTTER'S  WHEEL 

And  it  would  hold 

The  virgin  wine — the  soul  of  man. 

Yet  as  He  set  His  work  aside 

He  saw  the  soul 

For  which  He  wrought  the  vessel, 

Floating  wide  and  far  on  wings, 

And  so  He  took  again  the  clay 

And  again  He  wrought — 

And  now  as  He  works  He  sings. 


THE  NEW-BORN  SPIRIT 

WHAT  giant  thing  is  struggling  to  the  light, 

What  makes  this  agony  of  birth  so  great, 

What  child  is  this  to  be  born  to  Earth, 

In  the  frenzied  suffering  of  this  night? 

Though  we  fight  and  bleed  and  suffer, 

Though  we  serve  and  watch  and  wait, 

Though  we  heed  the  cry  of  the  dying, 

And  worship  the  deeds  of  the  great, 

We  know  that  this  true  mother,  Earth, 

Must  suffer  her  travail, 

And  only  when  her  time  has  come 

Shall  the  veil  be  lifted, 

And  the  dream  be  complete. 

Then  and  only  then 

Shall  we  see 

The  new-born  spirit 

Of  world-unity. 


THE  GREAT  WRONG 

O  WOMEN,  weep  not 

For  the  sons  ye  bore, 

But  weep  for  the  great  wrong 

Done  to  love 

Through  War. 


THE   HAND   OF   WAR 

You  mothers  who  have  felt  the  blow 

From  the  hand  of  war, 

Know  now  the  end,  and  weep. 

But  there  are  countless  women  here, 

Whose  sons  are  stripping  for  the  fight, 

And  they  have  lived  with  this  thing 

Clinging  to  their  dreams. 

In  the  night  they  have  lived 

Ten  thousand  lives  of  pain , 

And  grieved  with  every  mother 

To  whom  war  has  brought  her  slain, 

And  they  have  lived  these  years 

With  the  living  beauty  they  have  made, 

Seeing  this  beauty  again  and  yet  again 

Come  maimed  and  tortured  home, 

And  have  known  in  loved  eyes 

The  silent  heart  that  bleeds 

And  will  not  cry  its  pain; 

And  these  women  still  must  watch  and  suffer 

And  in  the  end  receive  their  slain. 


NEW  BEAUTY  SPRINGS 

FROM  out  the  fading  beauty  of  the  world 
New  beauty  springs, 
As  death  brings  forth 
New  life. 


86 


MY  MIND  SHALL  BE 

MY  mind  shall  be 

A  calm  and  placid  sea, 

Where  I  shall  find 

All  life  reflected 

In  its  true  proportion; 

There  shall  be 

No  inner  stress 

To  stir  the  surface 

With  its  breath 

To  blur 

And  twist  the  image, 

And  breed 

Through  vision  false 

Unwonted  passions. 

How  may  I  see  you  as  you  are, 
Unless  the  self  in  me 
Shall  leave  the  mirror  free 
To  catch  and  hold 
Your  image  from  afar? 

The  strength  of  each  shall  rest 
Upon  the  truth  he  sees. 


I  HAVE  UNDERSTOOD 

I  MAY  not  love  you 

As  another  would, 

For  I  have  lived  too  fully, 

I  have  understood. 

I  may  not  love  you 

As  another  would, 

For  in  the  heart  that  I  would  bring 

You'd  feel  the  pulse  of  every  woman 

Who  had  erred  and  sinned, 

I  have  lived  in  each, 

Feeling  their  sin  was  mine; 

I  have  doubly  felt  their  pain, 

And  loved  their  brighter  mood. 

I  am  all  these  women, 

So  I  may  not  love  you 

As  another  would, 

I  have  too  fully  lived, 

And  understood. 


88 


FOR  LOVING  YOU 

WHAT  is  it  weighs  me  down  today, 
With  a  weight  that  is  sweet, 
Like  the  burden  gladly  borne 
For  some  loved  soul  ? 

Is  it  the  shadow  of  your  nearness, 
The  sense  of  you  too  near  to  me, 
Which,  though  it  weighs  me  down, 
Yet  brings  with  it  some  comfort? 

Or,  is  it  just  the  weight  of  all  the  years 

I  feel  oppressing, 

Years  which  I  would  lift 

And  throw  aside, 

To  go  and  live  again  that  other  life 

Where  I  so  gladly  died 

For  loving  you? 


89 


YOUR  NAME 

How  your  name  sings  to  me! 
Its  music  echoes  down  the  years, 
And  I  hear  it  with  a  sense 
Of  nearing  music, 
Heard  long  ago  in  dreams. 


90 


IN  THE  STUDIO 

How  the  hours  sped  away  that  night  on  wings ! 

Yet  in  those  magic  moments, 

When  the  past  and  the  future  are  HERE  and 

NOW, 

Time  is  timeless, 
And  the  hours  vibrate  only   as  the   pulse  of 

Time. 


THE  GATHERING  WAVE 

THE  in-rushing  tumult 

Of  the  gathering  wave 

Will  spend  itself 

Upon  the  burning  beach, 

Then  when  the  impelling  force 

Has  lost  itself, 

Leaving  its  impress  on  the  shore, 

It  sweeps  back  to  the  sea: 

So  in  wave  after  wave 

I  would  have  you  take 

And  conquer  me. 


92 


TO  BE  FREE 

I  AM  suffering  with  that  hunger 
That  first  brought  life  to  earth, 
Aching  with  the  pain  that  bears 
The  burden  of  the  years. 
I  am  faint  with  a  thirst 
As  ancient  as  the  sea, 
And  though  I  am  spent 
With  love  and  longing, 
Yet  am  I  yearning 
To  be  free. 


93 


NOT  BE  RESTLESS  ? 

NOT  be  restless  ? 
Ask  the  beach  not  to  burn 
When  the  sea  has  left  it, 
Ask  the  tide  not  to  turn, 
Tell  the  day  not  to  leave  us 
And  the  night  to  stay ! 


94 


THE  PEACE  WE  SEEK 

THE  peace  we  seek  is  not  an  end, 

It  is  a  peace 

Which  is  the  heart's  attainment, 

The  peace  which  urges  us 

With  all  our  fuller  strength 

To  win  the  soul's  fulfillment. 

The  peace  we  seek 

Is  but  a  cup 

To  hold  the  wine , 

A  richer  oil 

To  feed  the  flame. 


95 


A  SOLITARY  PATH 

A  SINGLE,  narrow  path 

Led  me  through  the  pines 

To  the  summit  of  a  hill, 

And  there  I  found  a  palace, 

Gaunt,  ghostly  and  alone — 

A  dim  light  only  in  a  distant  wing, 

The  ruin  of  a  dead  soul 

Haunting  still  in  dreams. 

And  when  the  seasons  came  again 

And  brought  me  to  this  wood, 

I  sought  once  more  the  path  I  took, 

And  found  an  open  way  and  wide, 

Trodden  by  many  feet, 

And  the  sun  was  everywhere; 

And  when  I  reached  the  pine-crested  hill, 

Where  once  the  palace  stood, 

There  was  now  a  solitary  hut, 

And  the  sunlight  played 

With  the  shadows  on  its  shingles, 

And  a  voice  came  soft  and  low 

Through  the  open  windows, 

And  I  heard  a  woman  sing. 


96 


LIFE  MAY  COME 

LIFE  may  come  as  a  cruel, 

Sharp-toothed  thing; 

As  a  wind  that  rends  and  sears 

A  storm-pressed  cedar 

On  a  barren  shore. 

And  the  wind  may  sing — 

May  whistle  madly  through  the  tree 

And  bend  and  break  its  limbs, 

And  when  the  storm  has  passed 

We  may  look  at  last 

On  broken  wings  of  hope 

And  scattered  dreams. 

Though  our  dreams  may  drift 

And  fade  away, 

Yet  in  the  heart  of  each  of  us 

Will  cling  the  memory 

Of  all  that  Beauty  gave  to  life — 

All  that  is  real  and  true  and  sweet. 


97 


ALL  THROUGH  THE  YEARS 

ALL  through  the  years  I  heard  your  voice, 
And  I  thought  that  I  should  find  you 
Just  beyond  the  further  hill ; 

Yet  ever  you  eluded, 

Sought  the  deeper  vales, 

And  the  hills  and  woods 

That  then  beguiled  me 

Smiled  in  peace  and  dried  my  tears. 

And,  though  the  shades  grew  deeper 

And  I  often  lost  the  way, 
Ever  I  turned  to  the  rising  sun 
With  faith  in  the  newer  day; 

And  lo,  when  I  thought 

The  least  to  find  you 

You  were  the  dawning  day. 


98 


SPRING  IS  HERE 

A  MAGIC  veil  of  mist 

Is  brooding  over  all  the  earth. 

Spring  is  here, 

The  time  of  loving 

And  of  sowing, 

Of  birth 

And  growing. 


99 


IN  THE  NIGHT 

IN  the  night  and  storm 

I  was  carried  on  a  sea  of  pain 

To  its  utmost  crest, 

Only  that  it  might  throw  me  naked  on  the  rocks; 

Again  and  yet  again  it  drew  me  back 

To  fling  me  as  before 

Bruised  and  bleeding  to  the  shore; 

And  though  my  naked  flesh  quivered 

In  the  agony  of  the  sea's  pounding, 

My  spirit  would  not  yield, 

And  wore  a  smile  upon  its  lips. 

Now  that  the  dawn  has  come 

And  I  lie  within  the  sanctuary  of  your  arms, 

My  spirit  is  bowed  down 

And  here  at  last  it  weeps, 

It  cannot  bear  the  pain  of  living  joy, 

Because  it  is  so  deep. 


100 


I  WOULD  TELL  YOU 

I  WOULD  tell  you  that  I  ache 
And  suffer — and  know  pain ; 
Nay — only  to  be  bathed 
In  that  great  sea  of  your  loving 
And  made  whole  again ! 


10 1 


FACE  OF  DREAMS 

O  FACE  of  haunting  beauty, 

Face  of  dreams, 

Yours  the  image 

Which  the  soul  has  fashioned 

In  your  sleep. 

Your  soul,  like  a  well, 

Silent  and  deep, 

Stole  from  the  troubled  sea 

To  brood  alone  within  the  desert, 

Where  the  jewelled  sky 

Crept  in  to  share  its  peace, 

And  sleep  upon  its  breast, 

The  while  the  stars  in  silence 

Mingling  breath  with  breath 

Gave  of  their  dust 

To  free  your  soul  from  sleep. 


102 


I  WILL  HAVE  TO  KISS 

I  WILL  have  to  kiss  the  lips 
Whose  fullness  spells  infinity, — 
Lips  which  are  a  crimson  gate 
That  opens  but  to  free  some  truth 
No  craven  soul  would  utter.. 
They  shall  not  be  the  lips  of  slaves, 
But  lips  that  were  born  of  the  kiss 
That  made  some  woman  queen. 


103 


THE    STORM 

BELOVED,  in  the  beauty  of  thy  coming 
To  my  sacred  chamber, 
Was  the  sense  of  a  glad  day 
Newly  washed  in  the  gold 
Of  the  sun's  going; 
There  was  the  hush  of  waiting 
Known  at  the  birth  of  night, 
As  countless  silent  phantoms  creep 
Along  the  earth,  holding  in  their  hands 
The  shadows  they  are  bringing, 
Through  the  glimmering  dusk 
To  veil  the  eyes  of  sleep. 
There  was  the  music 
Of  the  many  chirping  things 
That  sing  the  silence  of  the  night, 
And  the  haunting  scent  of  flowers 
In  some  lost  and  distant  dream ; 
The  hovering  sense  of  many  wings 
Brushing  the  stillness  of  the  heart 
With  feathered  silence — 
Wings  that  flutter 'and  are  gone; 
And  there  was  the  beauty  of  the  moon, 
Which  thrust  the  clouds  aside 
That  for  a  moment  she  might  bless 
104 


THE  STORM  105 

The  sleeping  earth. 

And  as  the  wings  of  night 

Enfold  the  day, 

So  did  thy  tender  arms 

Enfold  and  hold  me  in  the  night, 

And  when  the  storm  crept  up  the  valley, 

Scattering  the  leaves, 

And  the  trees  caught  the  wind 

And  made  it  sing, 

And  a  few  scattered  drops 

Fell  from  the  sheltering  eaves, 

Thou  didst  love  me, 

And  then  the  titan  storm  arose 

And  swept  the  hills 

And  drove  us  on  its  wings  to  the  sea. 

And  the  trees  sobbed  and  moaned 

Beneath  the  savage  gale, 

While  trees  and  branches 

Ready  for  the  reaping 

Crashed  and  fell. 

And  the  driven  rain  splashed 

Against  the  window  panes 

And  came  in  rivers  from  the  eaves, 

And  the  sea  rose  from  its  bed 

And  hurled  and  lashed 

The  wind-swept,  barren  shore. 

And  in  the  storm  v/ere  scattered,  far  and 

wide, 
The  seeds  another  storm  shall  reap. 


REST,    MY   SWEET 

REST  with  your  arm  outstretched  my  sweet, 

That  I  may  rest  there  too, 

And  all  the  hours  that  you  sleep, 

I  shall  be  loving  you, 

And  while  we  rest  and  sleep,  my  dear, 

God  will  hold  us  two. 


106 


THE  CHALLENGE 

WHEN  you  flung  that  stinging  challenge 

Of  the  broken  wine  cups 

On  the  floor, 

I  did  not  strike 

To  kill  the  lie, 

For  in  my  heart 

Was  the  beating  of  many  wings, 

And  there  were  magic  hours  singing 

In  memory  with  the  stars 

And  a  far-off  image  which  I  keep 

Of  a  mother  sleeping  her  last  sleep. 


107 


BECAUSE 

BECAUSE  of  the  words  you  uttered, 

Because  of  the  cruel  blow, 

My  lips  shall  never  speak 

The  words  your  heart  would  know. 


108 


YOUR  MOTHER'S  SON 

IT  was  your  mother's  son  who  knew  my  heart, 

Your  father's  son  who  hurled  those  cruel  words, 

It  was  my  mother's  child  who  did  not  strike 
to  kill  the  lie. 

It  is  my  father's  child  that  pities 

One  who  does  not  know  a  truth ; 

It  is  the  mother's  son  in  you  who  will  not  let  you 
hate, 

The  father's  son  who  will  not  let  you  rest; 

And  I  would  be  my  mother's  child  if  I  could  un 
derstand, 

And  my  father's  child  if  I  could  weep. 


109 


IN  MY  AGONY 

IN  my  agony  I  must  cry  out 

And  you  must  know; 

Deeper  than  my  pain, 

Deeper  even  than  your  pain  in  me, 

Is  the  knowing  I  have  wronged 

Another  mother's  son. 

The  wound  is  mine, 

But  through  my  wound 

I  know  your  heart 

Must  bleed. 


HOW  MAY  I  AS  A  RUNNER  ? 

How  may  I  as  a  runner 

Win  my  race, 

And  face  the  sunlight 

With  this  wound  that  bleeds, 

And  nothing  can  ever  heal, — 

Knowing  no  rest,  no  sleep, — 

When  every  steep  I  climb, 

Is  but  to  find  you  there,  alone, 

And  to  know  you  weep? 


in 


THOU  EAGLE 

THOU  Eagle  that  wouldst  be  alone 
And  cry  thy  solitude 
To  the  day  and  to  the  night, 
And  gaze  upon  the  stars 
That  bred  thee, 
Dreaming  to  be  aloof, 
To  be  ever  one  and  alone, 
Know  thou  mayest  never  now 
Find  that  which  thy  heart  seeketh, 
For  on  a  sunlit  mountain  top 
Thou  foundest  for  thee  a  mate 
And  though  thou  wouldst  forget 
And  still  wouldst  be  alone, 
Thy  mate  has  built  a  nest. 


112 


THY  SOLITUDE 

STAND  thou  alone  in  thy  aloofness, 

Proud  Eagle.     The  rocky  crag 

Was  made  for  thee 

By  the  loving  Hand 

That  holds  thee. 

Know  to  thy  heart's  content 

That  thou  art  alone 

And  glory  in  being  so, 

Even  as  I  glory  in  it  for  thee, 

And  with  that  same  power 

That  thou  makest  thy  solitude 

Will  I  make  my  unity 

With  all  of  life. 

It  shall  be  my  strength 

To  serve  me  in  this  hour, 

And  to  thee  it  shall  be  a  light 

Shining  on  a  dark  night 

From  my  distant  tower. 


UNDER  THE  STARS 

UNDER  the  stars, 

Through  the  silent  watches 

Of  the  night, 

My  soul  is  brooding. 

Within  me  that  burning,  turning, 

Ceaseless  urge 

That,  from  its  agony, 

Brought  forth  a  world; 

In  my  open  hands 

The  living  flame, 

In  the  shadow  of  my  eyes 

The  world's  pain, 

In  my  heart  its  peace, 

And  on  my  lips 

A  prayer. 


114 


WHEN  I  UNCAPTAINED  GO 

WHEN  I  uncaptained  go 

Out  into  the  night, 

Let  none  weep  for  me, 

And  let  no  alien  hands 

Touch  me  in  my  last  sleep ; 

Only  the  hands  of  him 

Who  has  loved  me 

With  a  love  that  was  God's, 

He,  whose  soul  is  a  rocky  height 

No  foot  has  ever  trod, 

He,  who  has  died  for  the  right 

But  will  not  suffer  wrong, 

Whose  soul  is  white, 

And  whose  wings  are  strong. 


MY  DEAR 

MY  name  was  so  beautiful 
On  your  lips, 
Speak  it  sometimes 
In  the  silence 
Of  the  night, 
And  I  shall  hear 
And  if  you  would  bless 
A  living  memory, 
Whisper  to  the  night, 
"My  dear." 


116 


WHEN  THE  STORM  BREAKS 

WHEN  the  storm  breaks 

Upon  the  earth, 

And  the  wind  wakes 

The  ghosts  of  memory 

And  dream, 

And  voices  sing  and  whisper 

Through  the  trees, 

And  sobbing  notes  come 

Slipping  from  the  eaves, 

Then  will  I  rise 

And  go  into  the  night 

To  seek  the  tempest, 

And  it  shall  tear  and  strip  me, 

And  leave  me  naked ; 

For  I  know  the  storm 

Will  reap  in  me 

The  dead  things, 

And  give  the  living  wings. 


117 


WE  TWO 

THIS  loving  may  not  be  unloved, 

We  are  together  now, 

We  two  in  the  hand  of  God. 

We  have  climbed  with  bleeding  feet 

A  steep  and  grievous  road 

To  find  each  other. 

We  have  suffered  wrong, 

And  we  have  known  pain, 

And  we  have  been  alone, 

Each  in  a  world 

That  knows  no  pity. 

This  loving  may  not  be  unloved, 

We  are  together  now, 

We  two  in  the  hand  of  God. 


118 


YOUR  TRUE   POWER 

THAT  pride  which  sweeps  away 

The  things  it  would  not  know, 

And  flings  swift  arrows,  meant  to  sting, 

From  the  straining  bow, 

Is  that  which  breeds  your  pain. 

And  that  great  tenderness  you  have  shown 

To  me,  in  my  dark  hour, 

Which  led  you  out  into  the  night 

To  ease  my  grief,  is  your  true  power 

And  this  shall  bring  you  peace. 


119 


MY  mind  shall  be  a  placid  sea, 
Which  mirrors  all  of  life. 

Yet  in  this  lake  have  I  lately  seen 

My  leafless  silver  birch  become  a  fir, 

I  have  seen  the  limpid  blue  of  sky 

Become  a  black  and  muddy  thing, 

With  serpents,  writhing  in  the  arabesque 

Of  things  that  once  were  dreams, 

I  have  seen  my  stately  lily 

Become  a  tortured  snake, 

I  have  seen  all  this, 

I  have  seen  it  in  my  lake. 


120 


TWO  WINGS 

UNTIL  you  find  within  your  joy 

The  deepest  fullest  grief, 

Until  you  meet  within  your  pain 

Its  bright  and  jewelled  wing, 

Until  your  joy  and  pain  have  met, 

And  loved  till  they  are  one, 

There  can  be  for  you  no  lasting  peace, 

Your  battle  is  not  won. 

But  once  these  two  are  mated, 

The  bird  will  have  two  wings, 

Then  when  it  wins  its  freedom, 

You  will  listen  as  it  sings. 


121 


IN  THE  POOL 

ALL  through  the  noon 
The  sun  has  wooed 
The  lilies  blooming 
In  the  pool. 

And  now  too 

Comes  the  night  to  woo — 

She  woos  her  jewels 

In  the  pool. 

If  you  were  the  sun, 
I  would  be  a  nenuphar; 
Were  you  the  night, 
Then  would  I  be  a  star. 


122 


THIS  MOTHER-LOVE 

THIS  mother-love  is  deeper 

Than  you  know. 

Its  roots  spring  from  childhood 

Where  I  dreamed 

Of  what  a  mother's  love  might  be. 

It  reached  the  light  in  maidenhood 

And  in  marriage  faced  the  sun. 

And  as  its  flowers  blossomed, 

One  by  one,  its  roots  went  deeper, 

And  when  it  learned  to  weep 

And  still  to  keep  its  sweetness, 

I  thought  the  dream  complete. 

And  now  comes  this  storm 

To  sweep  me, 

That  I  may  deeper  go  to  seek 

And  find  the  truth  beyond  my  dream. 


123 


THE  LOVE 

THE  love 

I  loved  you  with 

Is  God. 


124 


IN  AN  OLD  ORCHARD 

THE  tragic  death  of  this  old  orchard 

Grips  me.     Wrecked  by  neglect 

And  time  and  storms,  it  rests 

Where  fire  too  has  swept  it 

And  left  a  spectre  of  old  dreams  and  memories ; 

And  yet  among  the  ghostly  standing  boles 

Of  these  trees,  filled  with  holes 

Woodpeckers  made  for  nests, 

And  the  harvest  of  its  prostrate  limbs, 

One  small  spray  of  an  ancient  tree 

Is  blossoming, 

And  bees  are  working  there, 

And  where  the  blossom  is 

There  shall  we  find 

The  fruit  and  seed. 

Even  so  we  carry  on  our  faith, 
One  grain  from  out  a  field  of  weeds. 


125 


WHAT  MIGHTY  WOOING 

WHAT  mighty  wooing  has  been  here 

That  brought  from  out  the  spheres 

The  earth,  submissive  to  the  sun! 

What  titan  pulse 

Has  thrilled  in  primal  force 

Before  the  triumph  won! 

When  the  earth  was  young 

And  had  but  winds  for  play, 

She  gave  birth  to  mountains 

And  tore  from  her  living  heart 

Great  rivers  that  the  sea  might  be, 

And  her  imperial  pulse 

Was  the  beating  of  eons'  wings 

That  thundered  past  her 

In  her  dreams. 

And  now  the  creeping  pulse  of  time 
Is  no  deeper  than  our  days  and  nights 
And  some  forget  to  dream. 


126 


HANDS,  O  SINGING  HANDS 

HANDS,  O  singing  hands, 

Hands  that  are  so  dear, 

You  have  held  me  in  my  sorrow, 
You  have  known  my  tears. 

Hands,  O  singing  hands, 

Hands  that  are  so  dear, 

Would  that  I  might  hold  you, 
Would  that  you  were  here. 

Hands,  O  singing  hands, 
Hands  that  are  so  dear, 

You  have  reaped  a  sorry  vintage, 

Held  a  bitter  tear. 
Hands,  O  singing  hands, 
Hands  that  are  so  dear, 

Would  that  I  might  bless  you, 

Would  that  I  might  cheer. 

Hands,  O  singing  hands, 
Hands  that  are  so  dear, 

I  wonder  if  you'd  sing  to  me, 

Sing  if  you  were  here. 
127 


128       HANDS,  O  SINGING  HANDS 

Hands,  O  singing  hands, 

Hands  that  are  so,  dear, 

Would  that  1  might  whisper  you, 
Would  that  you  might  hear. 


THE  BATTLE  IS  TOLD 

THE  tale  of  the  battle  is  told 
Not  by  the  warriors  that  come, 
Scarred  and  wounded,  from  the  fray, 
Nor  by  the  toll  we  take  of  the  dead, 
It  is  told  by  looking  deep 
Into  bleeding  hearts  at  home. 


129 


THESE  HOURS 

THE  hours  creep  by  today, 

A  maimed  and  crippled  throng, 

All  that  are  left  to  speak 

Of  the  winged  nights  that  were, 

And  dawns  that  marched 

In  stately  column,  with  love  triumphant, 

And  with  music  everywhere. 

Now  is  their  tread  the  tramp  of  stumbling  feet, 

Their  song  a  mumbled  prayer, 

For  the  dreams  that  are  dead, 

A  prayer  for  those  that  now 

Shall  come  to  fill  their  ranks, 

Born  into  a  world  of  tears, 

And  those  that  shall  come  still-born 

From  the  womb  of  Time, 

Dead  before  their  dawn, — 

These  hours,  soulless  and  pale, 

Struggling  to  build  each  day, 

Cry  out  against  the  wrong. 


130 


ALTHOUGH  THE  SEA 

ALTHOUGH  the  sea  come  surging  to  the  shore, 
Flung  in  mighty  surf  and  ruthless  breakers, 
Although  it  pound  and  press  the  silent  beach, 
Expressing  thus  its  own  distress  and  urge, 
It  may  win  no  more  of  the  shore 
Than  a  quiet  rippling  sea, 
Whose  silent,  gentle  hand 
Leaves  the  impress  of  its  image 
On  the  willing  sand. 


A  WANDERER 

O  LOVE,  thou  art  in  truth  alone, 

A  wanderer  in  a  world  thou  hast  made  fair, 

In  a  world  thou  hast  filled  with  living  beauty- 

Where  man  may  walk  a  god. 

Thou  hast  made  him  blind  and  unseeing, 

And  thou  art  wise,  for  in  his  blindness 

He  must  lose  his  way,  unless  he  seek 

That  inner  spirit  thou  gavest  him, 

Through  which  alone  he  may  find  thee. 

And  yet,  O  Love,  thou  art  in  truth  alone, 

A  wanderer  in  a  world  thou  hast  made  fair. 


132 


THE  SEA 

WHAT  is  the  sea? 
It  is  the  tears 
We  women  weep 
That  love  may  be. 


133 


LET  SILENCE  BE  THE  CROWN 

O  LOVE  let  Silence  be  the  crown  upon  thy  head, 
Bowed  down  in  pain,  for  all  the  words  that  have 

been  spoken 

In  thy  name,  and  the  deeds  that  have  been  done, 
Have  torn  thy  veils,  and  left  thee  bleeding. 
And  now  are  thy  dawns  but  the  shadow  of  dead 

dreams, 

And  all  thy  nights  are  scattered  to  the  winds, 
And  the  hours  that  go  drifting  past  thee 
Are  as  a  mist  that  blinds  thee,  and  that  hides  thy 

sun. 
O  Love   in  silence  and    in    pity    keep    to    the 

memory 

Of  thy  dream,  for  Time  will  sweep  away  the  niist 
And  reap  these  hours  of  pain,  and  thou  shalt 

raise  again 
Thy  head,  and  face  the  sun. 


MY  STRENGTH 

EVER  marching  with  me, 

Is  a  host  of  deathless  giants 

Born  of  my  pain. 

No  blow  of  circumstance, 

No  thrust  of  fate, 

No  stabbing  in  the  back, 

By  the  hand  of  hate 

That  has  not  brought  me  strength, 

New  power  to  carry  on. 

Though  wounded  by  the  blows 

That  Life  has  dealt  me, 

My  faith  has  never  swerved, 

I  have  watched  and  tended 

Through  many  a  travail, 

That  there  might  be  born  to  Life 

From  my  pain,  a  new  world  strength. 


135 


PROUD  HORSEMAN 

PROUD  Horseman, 

Can  you  not  stop  then, 

You  who  are  riding  to  the  sun? 

Must  you  hurry  past  us 

Ere  we  go  with  you 

Ere  our  work  is  done? 

What  will  avail  you  then, 

Proud  Rider  to  the  sun, 

To  leave  all  pain  behind  you, 

To  leave  no  service  done? 

What  avail  your  riding, 

If  you  reach  your  goal  alone? 

If  you  ride  by  with  blinded  eyes, 

Helping  never  a  one, 

What  avail  your  riding, 

Proud  Horseman  to  the  sun? 


136 


IN   THE  BEAUTY   OP  THE   SEA 

IN  the  beauty  of  the  sea, 
As  it  sleeps  beneath  the  sun, 
Is  the  beauty  of  the  virgin, 
The  sweetness  of  the  nun. 

But  when  the  storm  has  pressed  it, 
And  stripped  its  shimmering  veil, 
Though  it  breathe  deep,  seeming  sleep, 
It  is  dreaming  of  the  gale. 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD 

I  HAVE  searched  within  the  heart 
Of  all  the  seeming  cruelties  of  Life, 
The  hand  of  God. 
I  have  found  the  soul  in  all  things, 
Found  it  white,  found  where  God  is, 
Found  the  light. 


138 


SOME  DAY 

SOME  day  you  shall  find  your  name 

Like  a  prayer  upon  my  lips, 

A  prayer  for  all  the  winged  hours 

We  weaved  into  our  dream. 

It  matters  not  if  all  our  days 

Are  scattered  to  the  winds, 

It  matters  not  if  all  our  nights 

Are  drifting  with  the  tides, 

It  matters  not  what  Time  may  bring, 

Nor  where  our  lives  may  lead ; 

Were  all  the  seven  seas  between, 

Still  shall  your  name  remain 

Upon  my  lips,  a  prayer, 

A  prayer  for  all  the  winged  hours 

We  weaved  into  our  dream. 


i39 


A  SONG 

TO-NIGHT  1  am  but  a  child, 
And  I  am  lost. 
I  am  groping  in  the  dark, 
I  am  burdened  and  in  pain. 
The  way  is  long. 

Yet  I  shall  find  the  light 
And  bear  my  burden, 
Making  of  my  pain 
A  living  song. 


140 


WHAT  IS  SORROW,  CHILD? 

WHAT  is  sorrow,  Child? 

It  is  finding  all  alone 

Your  way  from  darkness 

To  the  light. 

It  is  taking  from  the  bitterness 

Of  Life,  the  thing  that  is  sweet ; 

It  is  giving  up  the  earthly  ties 

For  those  you  cannot  see ; 

It  is  turning  all  the  pain  of  Life 

To  some  new  strength : 

It  is  giving  back  to  Life 

All  that  Life  gives  you; 

It  is  a  steep  and  rocky  road 

Leading  through  the  night. 

What  is  sorrow,  Child? 

It  is  finding  all  alone 

Your  way,  from  darkness 

To  the  light. 


141 


WHY  LOSE  OUR  WAY 

NAY,  Love,  why  lose  our  way  in  words, 

Why  try  to  understand  the  things  of  earth 

Save  through  the  spirit? 

Love  like  ours  gives  birth 

To  countless  winged  thoughts 

That  draw  us  each  to  each. 

Nay,  Love,  what  matters  speech 

With  love  like  this  between? 

What  matters  anything  to  us 

Who  have  this  dream? 


142 


GOD  WAS  THERE 

"You  did  not  think  this  love  was  worth  the 

fight, 

No,  you  would  not  fight, 
Seven  times  the  chance  was  offered  you 
And  seven  times  you  failed. " 

Aye,  I  failed,  and  even  so 

Failed  Another! 

There  is  a  love  transcending  all  things, 

A  love  that  is  God,  a  love  that  is  everywhere, 

And  every  time  you  bade  me  fight, 

I  bowed  my  head  in  prayer 

And  hid  my  face, 

That  you  might  see  that  God  was  there. 


LOVE  CRUCIFIED 

EACH  day  I  seek  the  hill  to  lie  upon  the  earth, 

My  upturned  face  to  the  sun. 

As  I  lie  there  with  arms  outstretched, 

My  body  forms  a  cross, 

Symbol  of  a  love  that  bears  the  pain 

Of  a  whole  world,  and  understands. 

And  I  know  that  once  again  Love  is  crucified, 

And  forced  to  drink  the  bitter  cup. 

With  my  face  upturned  to  the  sun, 

I  feel  Love's  spirit  rise, 

And  know  it  to  be  one  with  God.' 


144 


MY  GARDEN 

IN  that  dark  hour,  when  the  frost  comes 
And  reaps  the  flowers  of  our  dream, 
We  feel  a  sense  of  loss. 
Although  another  season  brings  its  bloom, 
It  brings  another  frost. 
There  are  places  where  at  all  seasons 
Gardens  bloom  to  happy  faces. 
I  dreamed  of  such  a  garden. 
Yet  now  is  my  garden  swept  by  frost. 
All  the  beauty  of  its  days, 
And  the  perfume  of  its  nights 
Are  scattered  to  the  winds. 
These  so  sweetly  sing  to  me, 
That  I  am  haunted  by  the  memory 
Of  the  frost. 

I  planted  in  the  wrong  season, 
In  the  wrong  way,  and  in  the  wrong  earth. 
Although  my  garden  is  swept  bare, 
As  I  kneel  there,  in  memory, 
I  know  the  spirit  lives  that  gave  it  birth : 
I  am  but  a  mother  weeping  for  the  child  of  her 
dream. 


145 


YESTERDAY 

NAY,  I  would  not  forget  the  past. 

How  may  I  while  this  beauty  lasts? 

How  may  I  bury  it  as  you  would  do, 

Who  dig  graves  for  all  that  die  in  you? 

How  face  to-day,  bearing  in  my  arms 

Dead  things  from  a  dead  yesterday? 

Nay,  there  shall  be  no  death  in  me. 

All  things  shall  live  in  me, 

And  beautifully  live,  even  my  pain. 

And  this  pain  shall  be  made  sweet  and  true, 

Changed  to  new  life,  new  ways,  new  songs. 

Even  so  shall  all  the  pain  I  know 

Be  turned  to  living  joy  in  me; 

Nay,  give  me  your  pain  too, 

And  I  shall  make  of  it  new  joy  for  you. 


146 


MY  SPIRIT  TO  ME 

DEAR  Heart  of  me  suffer  thou  in  silence. 

Weep.     Thy  tears  shall  wash  away  thy  grief, 

And  when  again  joy  comes  to  thee, 

Lift  up  thy  voice  and  sing. 

Had  I  not  wed  thee,  there  would  be 

No  joy,  no  pain  for  me. 

From  thee  are  born  these  things 

That  make  life  dear  and  sweet. 

I  may  bring  thee  peace  and  hope, 

I  may  bring  thee  strength  to  rise  above  thy 

grief, 

And  teach  thee  it  goes  hand  in  hand  with  joy. 
Yet  were  it  not  for  thee,  dear  Heart, 
There  would  be  no  joy,  no  grief. 
When  weary,  thou  shalt  come  to  me, 
And  I  shall  guard  thee  in  thy  sleep 
And  when  in  the  end,  thou  seekest 
Thy  mother  Earth, 
Then  too  shall  I  be  with  thee 
To  share  thy  fuller  birth. 


i47 


TO  MY  SPIRIT 

PROUD  Spirit,  hold  high  thy  head, 

For  thou  mayest  not  know  grief 

Save  through  me,  thy  flesh,  thy  Self. 

And  if  for  thy  freedom,  I  must  know  pain, 

Let  me  suffer  again  and  yet  again. 

Let  me  search  the  pain  of  all  the  earth; 

Let  me  endure  all  things  for  thy  birth 

And  fuller  life,  for  thy  wings  are  dear  to  me, 

And  I  would  have  them  strong, 

That  they  may  bear  me  ever 

Through  the  night  and  storm, 

Ever  to  the  east,  where  the  least  of  my  desires 

Shall  meet  the  light  of  a  world's  sun. 

And  when  my  work  is  done, 

They  shall  be  strong  to  bear  me  on. 


148 


YOU  BROUGHT  ME  JOY 

You  brought  me  joy  so  deep 

Its  pain  has  made  me  weep, 

And  you  have  taught  me  to  know  pain 

So  great,  it  is  sweet. 


149 


ONCE,  LONG  AGO 

ONCE,  long  ago,  you  placed  within  my  hands 

The  golden  threads  shorn  from  your  baby  head, 

Then  was  I  once  more  a  mother, 

Feeling  the  joy,  the  pain,  the  hope 

Born  of  that  other  who  gave  you  birth. 

And  as  I  held  these  threads  of  gold, 

My  thoughts  turned  golden, 

Sweeping  back  across  the  years, 

Until  your  own  sweet  mother 

Lived  for  me,  and  her  heart  throbbed  with  mine 

To  hear  you  voice  such  tender  memory. 

And  all  this  gold  I  wove  into  my  dream. 

0  what  gold  I  had  for  weaving! 

Such  gold  was  never  seen  upon  the  loom  of 
Time. 

1  took  for  design  an  old  world  pattern, 
Such  as  maids  and  mothers  weave, 
When  their  hearts  sing  to  them 

And  new  spirit  wings  to  them, 
And  they  conceive. 

With  my  golden  thoughts,  I  used  the  golden 

threads 

From  your  baby  head  to  weave  into  my  dream. 
150 


ONCE,  LONG  AGO  151 

And  when  at  the  last,  you  asked  for  them, 

I  faced  the  task  of  seeking  every  thread  you 

claimed. 

And  the  old  time  pattern  that  I  wove 
Is  rent,  and  wet  with  tears, 
And  all  the  threads  are  scattered  to  the  winds, 
And  there  are  no  days,  no  nights, 
Only  the  patient  years. 


MY  PRIDE 

AT  last  I  understand! 

My  pride  has  died  at  your  hand, 

And  you  stood  by,  and  heard  my  cry 

And  would  not  lift  a  hand. 

Aye!    The  pride  of  Self  is  dead  in  me, 

Yet  a  greater  pride  lifts  now  its  head 

To  ride  to  victory. 


152 


MY  HEART 

ALTHOUGH  the  way  to  my  heart 

Is  steep  and  hard  to  climb, 

For  you  its  door  stands  wide. 

There  is  no  child  of  yours 

You  may  not  bring 

To  leave  within  this  door 

Even  that  born  of  another  woman, 

Be  it  cripple  or  be  it  blind, 

My  love  shall  make  it  whole, 

For  through  this  door  has  passed 

The  pain  of  a  whole  world. 

I  have  nursed  it,  and  understand, 

I  have  searched  the  heart  of  it 

And  found  it  sweet, 

And  found  that  it  can  rise  on  wings 

And  seek  the  spirit's  life, 

Where  all  our  human  cries 

Are  but  one  voice,  a  voice  that  sings. 

I  have  found  that  in  this  world 

Above  our  days  and  nights, 

That  pain  in  my  heart  is  the  cross 

On  which  new  love  is  borne. 


154  MY  HEART 

Come,  my  dear,  come  to  my  door 

And  lay  your  burden  down; 

I  shall  not  love  you  less, 

For  I  would  love  you  more,  always  more. 


LOVE  AND  YOU 

AGAIN  must  I  die  for  loving  you, 

As  in  that  other  life  I  died? 

Must  I  know  joy  only  that  I  may  learn 

To  weep  through  you? 

1  wonder  why  in  that  other  life 

1  died  for  loving  you.     Was  it  too 

Because  the  truth  I  gave  to  you 

Was  greater  than  the  truth  you  knew? 

Was  it  because  like  Ruth  of  old, 

1  gave  up  all  for  loving  you? 

Is  it  then  a  sin  to  Life 

To  lay  my  life  aside  for  you? 

If  so,  give  me  the  bitter  cup  to  drain, 

For  I  shall  die  again 

Before  I  give  up  love  and  you. 


MY  WINGS  ARE  BOUND 

WHAT  in  my  pain  brings  me  in  touch 

With  so  much  suffering? 

Is  it  that  I  feel  our  human  weakness, 

And  the  frailties  of  a  spirit 

That  knows  not  of  its  strength? 

For  in  the  length  of  a  whole  world, 

No  heart  lives  that  does  not  beat  in  mine, 

There  is  no  winged  spirit 

That  does  not  wing  to  me. 

With  my  hand  upon  the  pulse  of  Life, 

Trying  to  understand, 

With  a  spirit  that  would  wing 

Beyond  the  reach  of  time, 

And  seek  to  soar  above  the  touch  of  earth, 

I  am  crushed  beneath  the  weight 

Of  a  world's  pain, 

Feeling  my  wings  are  bound. 


156 


WHO  STRIKES  TO  KILL 

O  LOVE,  who  strikes  to  kill  thee, 
Strikes  himself. 
And  the  heart  that  bleeds, 
Bleeds  from  its  own  hand. 


i57 


A  PRAYER 

GOD  give  thee  grace 

To  face  the  truth. 

God  bring  thee  to  thyself 

Where  thou  mayest  see 

Thy  feet  of  clay. 

God  take  thee 

To  the  lake  of  tears, 

Where  for  thy  soul's  sake 

Thou  mayest  see 

In  the  deep, 

Thy  wasted  years 

And  weep. 

God  free  thee  from  thyself 

And  wing  thy  spirit  on ; 

God  bring  again  the  truth 

And  beauty  to  thy  face, 

God  give  thee  grace. 


158 


ON  STARLIT  NIGHTS 

THOUGH  it  be  night  in  this  our  world, 

Though  we  have  lost  our  way, 

The  sun  is  shining  on  a  universe  of  stars. 

Why  may  we  not  on  starlit  nights 

Dreaming  of  each  other, 

Wing  in  thought  to  Mars? 

Though  clay  may  bind  our  bodies 

To  the  pain  of  earth, 

Our  spirits  may  go  free  on  wings 

To  meet  within  another  sphere, 

In  that  shining  universe  of  stars. 

Why  may  we  not  on  starlit  nights 

Dreaming  of  each  other, 

Wing  in  thought  to  Mars? 


LIKE  A  LOTUS 

I  SHALL  be  worthy, 
Worthy  of  my  love 
My  love  for  you, 
Which  leaf  by  leaf, 
And  petal,  one  by  one, 
Opened  like  a  lotus 
To  your  sun. 


160 


OTHER  VOICES 

YOUR  words  tell  me  you  would  forget, 
Yet  other  voices  speak  and  tell  me 
You  remember,  voices  uttering  no  word, 
No  word  that  may  be  heard. 
Voices  the  heart  alone  may  hear, 
And  dear  to  those  who  love. 
Voices  whose  music  is  that  of  a  sunlit  sea 
Moving  free  beneath  the  wind ; 
Of  lispings  in  the  rain  among  the  leaves 
Singing  in  brooks ;   silence  in  deep  rivers ; 
The  music  of  the  whisperings  heard 
Among  the  pines  when  day  is  done 
Of  the  aspen  leaf  a-quiver  when  the  wind  stirs ; 
Of  the  wind  when  it  sleeps 
In  the  noonday  sun  beneath  the  firs; 
Your  heart  sings  to  me  by  day, 
Your  love  wings  to  me  at  dusk, 
As  mine  to  you, 
And  the  infinite  blue  above 
Is  as  measureless  as  my  love, 
My  love  for  you. 
Often  as  I  spin,  you  come  to  me, 
Then  my  heart  leaps  to  meet  your  own, 
And  my  blood  sings  of  a  world  of  love, 
11  161 


162  OTHER  VOICES 

And  dead  dawns  and  silent  nights 

Of  time  awake  and  pass  in  glad  array, 

A  stately  pageant  of  old  days  of  dreams 

Living  again  in  me;  and  the  days 

And  the  nights  you  loved  me  with 

Once  more  bear  me  to  your  arms, 

And  the  music  of  the  wheel  is  silent, 

And  for  a  while  my  heart  is  stilled. 

Sometimes  as  I  weave, 

My  hands  are  seized  by  yours, 

And  the  shuttle  falls; 

Again  when  I  would  sing, 

Your  lips  cling  to  mine, 

And  once  more  am  I  lifted 

On  the  tide  of  your  loving 

And  in  silence  I  am  swept 

From  the  shore  to  the  sea. 

Though  no  word  be  heard 

Your  heart  will  speak  to  me 

Through  all  the  years, 

And  when  my  heart  weeps,  in  silence, 

Your  heart  will  feel  my  tears. 


HOW  FIND  MY  WAY? 

NAY,  how  could  I  find  my  way  to  you  again 

Across  that  living  sea  of  pain  between? 

How  could  my  lips  sing  to  you 

Of  our  dawns  and  our  eventides, 

With  the  memory  of  lips  alien  to  our  love 

Still  clinging  to  your  own? 

How  could  my  words  reach  you 

With  the  tide  of  your  passion 

Rising  and  falling 

To  the  call  of  an  alien  voice? 

Nay,  how  touch  your  crimsoned  hand 

Fresh  from  the  wound  you  dealt  our  love? 

How  rest  my  head  upon  your  heart 

Where  my  love  lives  dead  and  bleeding? 

Nay,  how  find  peace, 

Till  life  shall  cease? 


163 


I  DID  NOT  KNOW 

I  DID  not  know  that  Love  could  be  so  fair. 

I  did  not  know  she  drew  from  otherwhere 

All  beauty  to  herself. 

I  did  not  know  that  beauty  in  itself 

Was  but  a  part  of  her. 

Yet  now  I  understand. 

Through  the  beauty  in  yourself  alone 

Can  you  reach  to  the  soul  in  me, 

And  I  to  you. 

Only  in  the  full  beauty  of  our  souls 

Can  we  meet  in  Love,  and  be  as  one. 


164 


LOT'S  WIFE 

WHAT  is  the  meaning  of  the  tale 
Told  of  Lot's  wife,  save  this: 
We  must  go  on  in  life,  always  on, 
We  may  not  return 
Until  the  ocean  of  all  tears 
Is  dried  and  turned  to  salt. 


165 


STRANGE  WOMAN 

STRANGE  woman  of  lost  dreams 

Haunting  my  days  and  my  nights 

With  your  sweet  presence, 

What  may  I  do  for  you? 

What  rests  undone  that  love  can  do? 

I  have  come  to  you  in  silent   prayer, 

To  you  I  have  brought  my  grief, 

And  always  in  my  pain 

Your  arms  sustain  me, 

And  when  I  weep  you  dry  my  tears. 

Yet  in  your  silent  presence 

The  voice  of  my  lost  dream 

Taunts  my  loneliness, 

And  tells  me  of  another, 

Seeking  too  through  you 

That  lost  and  cherished  dream. 

O  show  me  the  way ! 

Lead  me  from  this  night, 

Guide  me  to  the  day, 

Strange  woman  of  lost  dreams. 


166 


MY   WOUNDS 

I  MAY  not  be  wounded, 
Save  through  the  tools 
I  place  in  the  hands  of  fools. 
If  then  I  am  hurt, 
Then  do  I  wound  myself. 


167 


HE  SHALL  BE  FREE 

TO  J.   A.    G. 

THE  unseen  bond  of  love 

Between  my  son  and  me, 

Shall  be  no  iron  chain 

To  bind  him  down. 

Though  it  may  guide  him 

Still  shall  he  be  free, 

Free  to  build  within  himself 

An  altar  for  that  inner  flame, 

Whose  thirst  and  hunger 

Gave  him  birth, 

Whose  constant  urge 

Compels  his  better  thought. 

He  shall  be  free 

To  tend  his  lamp, 

To  trim  and  fill  his  light. 

He  shall  be  free  to  make  his  day, 

Free  to  make  his  night. 


168 


THE  WAY  TO  THEE 

As  the  brook  winds  its  way  to  the  river, 

And  the  river  to  the  sea, 

So  shall  the  flood  of  my  loving 

"Win  its  way  at  last  to  thee. 


169 


LOVE  LIKE  MINE 

LIFE,  I  dreamed  too  deep, 
I  asked  too  much  of  thee, 
Who  asked  for  love  like  mine, 
Yet  shall  I  die  of  thirst, 
Ere  my  lips  shall  touch 
A  lesser  wine. 


170 


SLEEP  WITH  THY  FATHERS 

TO    TUDOR 

SLEEP  with  thy  fathers,  dear, 

To-day  wert  thou  here, 

Thou  would 'st  be  a  man, 

Knowing  the  pain  that  men  must  know. 

I  am  glad  thou  art  spared, 

Glad  that  in  the  deep 

Of  thy  quiet  sleep, 

There  is  rest  for  thee  and  peace. 

When  the  weight  of  thy  cross 

Was  too  great  for  thee  to  bear, 

Thy  sweet  and  gentle  ways, 

Thy  tender  thought  were  there. 

Thou  broughtest  with  thee 

The  gift  of  giving  and  of  loving, 

Living  in  the  hearts  of  others. 

Now  art  thou  living  in  our  hearts, 

Who  learned  of  thee, 

Thy  gift  of  giving  and  of  loving. 


171 


THY  LOVING 

SINCE  together  we  have  faced  the  sun, 

I  shall  not  fear  the  night. 

In  my  pain  none  shall  pity  me, 

For  I  am  proud  to  suffer  at  thy  hand, 

Glad  to  bear  into  the  night 

The  memory  of  thy  loving, 

I  need  no  other  light. 

Since  together  we  have  faced  the  sun, 

I  shall  not  fear  the  night. 


172 


WHERE  THE  CAMELS  WAIT 

I  AM  alone, 

Alone  in  an  alien  land. 
I  sigh  for  the  open, 
I  sigh  for  the  sands. 
I  have  traveled  far, 
Too  far  .  .  . 

0  where  are  the  camels  .  .  .  ? 
Where  the  silence  .  .  .? 
Where  the  stars  .  .  .  ? 

1  am  alone, 

0  take  me  to  the  desert, 
Take  me  home ! 

1  would  be  alone, 
Alone  with  you. 

O  take  me  to  the  desert 
Where  the  camels  wait; 
Take  me  to  your  arms, 
Take  me  far; 
O  take  me  to  your  home, 
To  your  tent 
Beneath  the  stars! 


I  AM  WEARY 

SOON  may  I  sleep, 

Sleep  in  that  quiet  sleep 

Which  brings  its  peace, 

The  peace  and  the  sleep 

Only  the  dead  may  know. 

I  have  fought  my  battles, 

And  though  I  have  many  times 

Been  beaten  to  the  ground, 

It  was  ever  with  a  smile  upon  my  lips. 

With  my  head  unbowed, 

Yet  now  am  I  weary, 

And  bleeding  from  old  wounds : 

Now  at  last  would  I  weep, 

Weep  and  bow  my  head. 

Now  at  last  would  I  rest, 

Rest  and  sleep  among  the  dead. 


174 


YOU  HAVE  SO  LOVED  MY  BEAUTY 

You  have  so  loved  my  beauty, 

Would  you  love  me,  if  less  fair? 

Would  you  love  me  if  you  could  not  read 

Of  passion  in  my  hair? 

If  my  lips  did  not  betray 

The  joy  you  leave  there  in  your  kiss? 

If  the  perfume  of  my  body 

Called  not  to  your  sense? 

Would  you  love  me  if  my  eyes 

Were  less  a  paradise? 

If  their  shadow  haunted  depth 

Sang  not  of  the  sea? 

Have  you  sought  beyond  my  beauty 

To  find  my  spirit  fair? 

You  have  so  loved  my  beauty, 

O  love  the  beauty  there! 


173 


THE  CORNFIELDS 

THOUSANDS  of  gay  ribbons,  green  and  grey, 

Are  waving,  fluttering  in  the  breeze, 

There  is  a  crisp  and  rustling  sound, 

Along  the  ground. 

Muttering  through  the  corn. 

Where  no  sunlight  falls, 

Are  grey  green  shadows  under  all ; 

While  in  the  glow  of  the  setting  sun, 

Yellow-green  and  gold  are  seen. 

And,  as  I  dream,  a  golden  fog  creeps  in, 

And  girdles  all  the  hills; 

And  shadows  deepen. 

Far  away  a  hermit  thrust  is  heard, 

Uttering  his  last  sweet  note, 

In  joyous  song. 

And  bit  by  bit,  the  darkness  deepens 

In  the  valleys,  and  steals  among  the  hills. 

Yet  still  through  the  dusk,  covering  all, 

I  hear  along  the  ground, 

The  sound  and  rustle  of  the  corn. 

Still  are  its  many  strands  of  ribbon 

Fingering  the  wind, 

Like  thousands  of  unseen  hands. 


176 


THOUGH  all  the  world  should  wound  you, 

I  know  that  in  your  heart, 

You  will  make  a  blessing 

Of  the  wrong  done  you, 

And  love  the  hand  that  wounded  you. 

I  know  that  you  will  turn  the  wrong, 

To  serve  in  some  way,  Life's  great  purpose. 

I  know  that  you  will  make  of  it 

A  great  and  glorious  song. 


177 


I  WOULD  LOVE  YOU 

IN  those  days  I  was  but  a  child  in  my  lov 
ing, 

I  did  not  know  ...     I  did  not  understand. 
Your  love  .has  brought  me  to  my  womanhood, 
And  taught  me  all  the  true  and  good  in  love, 
And  taught  me  all  its  pain, 
Its  bitter  and  its  sweet, 
Drawing  deep  from  the  well  of  Life. 
And  now  that  I  am  a  woman  grown, 
I  would  love  you,  and  make  known  to  you 
The  love  that  you  have  crowned  me  with. 


178 


NOTHING  TO  SAY 

NOTHING  to  say? 
With  an  aching  heart,  and  a  fevered  brain, 

Nothing  to  say? 
With  a  heart  that  bleeds  of  an  endless  pain, 

Nothing  to  say? 
With  a  thirst  to  quench,  and  this  hunger  at  bay, 

Nothing  to  say? 

With  a  world  of  suffering  yet  to  face, 
With  a  world  of  love  unsung, 

Nothing  to  say? 

O  God,  nothing  to  say. 


179 


MY  HAND 

A  STRANGE  woman, 

From  an  Eastern  land, 

Took  my  gold,  and 

Looking  at  my  hand, 

Told  me  that  my  love 

Had  been  untrue, 

Untrue  to  me. 

She  was  overbold,  and  said: 

"To  drown  some  memory, 

And  ease  his  thirst, 

He  stooped  to  drink 

From  a  harlot's  cup." 

And  when  in  wrath 

1  rose  to  leave  her, 

She  flung  a  ribald  laugh 

To  follow  after  me, 

And  said:  "The  harlot's  curse 

Be  on  his  head!" 


180 


GIVE    ME    A   WORLD 

GIVE  me  a  world  for  body, 

For  dreams  a  universe  of  stars. 

Its  rocks  and  ridges  shall  be  my  bones, 

My  flesh  the  sweeping  curve  from  hill  to  plain. 

In  its  flowing  rivers  and  its  seas 

Shall  flow  my  blood. 

It  shall  flow  from  east  to  west, 

From  west  to  east. 

My  heart  shall  be  the  pulse  of  a  whole  world, 

Feeling  a  world's  joy,  knowing  a  world's  pain. 

My  brain  shall  hold  a  world's  thought. 

All  living  things  shall  rest  within  my  arms. 

I  shall  mother  all  of  life, 

All  life  find  comfort  at  my  breast. 

My  hands  shall  be  a  world's  tenderness. 

My  eyes  see  what  the  sun  sees. 

The  winds  shall  be  my  breath, 

The  vines  my  flowing  hair. 

My  voice  shall  be  a  world's  song, 

My  lips  its  passion  and  its  prayer; 

My  love  a  world's  faith, 

Whose  wings  shall  lift  it  far. 

O  give  me  a  world  for  body, 

For  dreams  a  universe  of  stars ! 


181 


SEEK  WITHIN 

CHILD,  when  in  trouble, 

Or  in  pain, 

Lock  fast  your  gate, 

And  seek  the  cause  within, 

Thus  shall  you  seize 

And  capture  it. 

Again  I  charge  you, 

Lock  your  gate! 

Lest  the  cur  escape, 

To  sleep,  or  whine 

At  another's  door. 


182 


HERE  AMONG  THE  RUINS 

HERE  among  the  ruins  of  my  love, 
I  sit  watching  the  lagging  hours  pass 
As  bit  by  bit  the  Summer  slips  away. 
When  the  sun  was  shining  in  my  sky, 
The  birds  were  mating  and  their  song 
Was  but  an  echo  to  my  joy. 
Now  are  they  flocking,  their  mating  past. 
Like  the  Summer,  they  too  shall  slip  away, 
While  all  these  dragging  hours  stay 
To  mock  my  loneliness. 

When  we  reap  from  the  fields  we've  sown, 
And  the  teaming  harvests  are  brought  in, 
And  the  grain  is  piled  up  in  the  bins, 
On  every  hand  the  wine  press  flowing, 
I  shall  gaze  upon  an  empty  bowl, 
And  face  a  cup  that  is  not  filled. 
For  all  my  bread  will  turn  to  dust, 
And  my  golden  wine  be  spilled, 
My  harvest  scattered  to  the  winds. 
Yet  still  I  will  not  see  that  love  is  done. 
I  will  not  turn  from  the  glowing  east, 
To  face  a  setting  sun. 


183 


MY  WINE 

I  KNOW  that  in  a  whole  world 
There  is  no  love  to  equal  mine. 
Were  you  to  taste  from  every  cup, 
You  would  find  no  equal  to  my  wine. 


184 


DEAD  DAYS 

How  live  this  eternity 

Of  dead  days  and  dying  nights 

That  now  must  be? 

How  live, 

With  the  hours,  that  have  been, 

Singing  in  the  night, 

Hours  that  come  to  brush  me 

With  their  wings? 

How  live  these  hours  now? 

How  hush  these  memories, 

That  haunt  me  in  my  dreams? 

How  live  this  eternity 

Of  dead  days  and  dying  nights, 

That  now  must  be? 

O  tell  me,  tell  me  how ! 


BROKEN  WINGS 

WHEN  love  stirs  my  heart, 
Words  are  born  to  wing  to  thee, 
They  rise  to  my  lips, 
There  they  quiver  for  a  time, 
There  they  die  .  .  .  Nay, 
How  sing,  with  broken  wings?  . 


186 


A  STRANGE  EPITAPH 

THIS  place  is  sacred, 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of  one 

Who  once  came  here  to  dream ; 

His  soul  left  his  body  in  May, 

Or  early  June, 

Before  the  robins  mated, 

Before  the  lilacs  bloomed. 

Here  as  a  poet 

He  came  to  sing; 

To  sing  and  dream ; 

Here  too  as  an  artist 

He  drank  deep  of  the  limpid  blue. 

His  soul,  a  winged  thing, 

Still  haunts  this  room, 

Still  wanders  through  these  woods, 

And  they  say  his  body  still  is  seen 

Walking  the  streets  of  old  New  York, 

Soulless,  yet  deep  in  thought  .  .  . 

Nay,  he  was  no  ordinary  man, 

He  did  not  die  in  the  ordinary  way! 


187 


WAR 

ONCE  was  I 
The  happiest  woman 
In  a  wide  world, 
Gloriously  alive  to  joy. 

Yet  now  I  weep, 
And  feel  my  heart 
Leaping  to  the  flame 
Of  a  world's  pain. 


1 88 


A   DERELICT 

WE  sought  together  an  unknown  sea 

A  sea  to  quench  our  hunger  and  our  thirst, 

A  sea  on  which  no  man  may  fare  alone. 

And  when  by  dreams, 

Through  many  lifting  veils  of  mist, 

We  came  upon  its  shore, 

We  there  together  saw  a  vision, 

Whose  beauty  while  we  live, 

Will  hold  us  both  as  one. 

Together  we  faced  that  unknown  sea, 

We  saw  what  a  world  now  seeks. 

We  found  the  gift  of  Life, 

We  found  the  way, 

We  found  the  Light, 

And  together  we  set  sail  upon  that  sea, 

The  Sea  of  Life. 

It  surpassed  in  beauty  all  mortal  dreams. 
It  led  us  to  the  dawn, 
It  brought  us  to  the  stars, 
Where  together  we  drank  deep  from  a  cup 
Ever  flowing  over. 
And  when  a  storm  swept  us, 
And  you  thought  you  saw  some  rock  ahead, 
189 


190  A  DERELICT 

You  leapt  into  the  sea, 

And  made  your  way  to  shore, 

Not  by  the  strength  of  your  own  arm, 

But  by  clinging  to  the  side 

Of  some  drifting  thing  upon  the  tide. 

And  you  left  the  ship  to  me, 

Left  me  to  steer  alone, 

Past  rock  and  storm,  left  me  to  wreck 

Upon  an  alien  coast,  a  derelict 

Adrift  on  an  unknown  sea, 

A  sea  where  none  may  go  alone. 


LOST  DREAMS 

IN  the  deep  of  the  sea 
All  lost  dreams 
Conceal  their  grief. 
Yet  never  a  dream 
Has  been  undone 
That  could  face  alone 
The  light  of  a  sun. 


191 


YOUR  CUP  AND  MINE 

DEAR,  why  won't  you  hear  my  cry, 
Why  let  these  wasted  hours  go  by, 
Hours  which  you  and  I  might  sing, 
And  in  our  union  bring 

So  much  to  Life? 

Dear,  why  won't  you  hear  my  cry, 
Why  let  a  sacred  memory  die? 
The  cup  of  wine  is  full  and  flowing, 
Ready  for  your  taste  and  knowing, 

Your  cup  and  mine. 

Dear,  why  won't  you  hear  my  cry, 
Why  let  these  wasted  hours  go  by, 
Hours  which  you  and  I  might  sing, 
And  in  our  union  bring 

So  much  to  Life? 


192 


EAST  AND  WEST 

THERE  are  memories  that  you  and  I  shall  not 

forget, 

Not  if  we  live  a  thousand  years, 
Not  if  our  lives  shall  lead  us  east  and  west. 


A  ROSE  GARDEN 

THERE  is  a  garden  full  of  roses. 

Where  once  you  came  to  dream. 

But  when  from  the  east  the  sun  arose, 

And  drew  the  perfume  of  the  rose 

To  meet  the  day, 

The  light  drove  you  away, 

You  would  not  stay,  you  would  not  stay 


194 


MY  LOVING 

You  did  not  know  my  loving, 
Or  you  would  have  come  to  me, 
Not  to  lay  your  burden  at  my  feet, 
But  that  I  might  wear  it  as  a  crown. 
I  would  have  bowed  my  head  to  take  it 
Proud  to  share  your  pain. 


PRIDE  AND  SELF 

ART  thou  then  a  god 

That  thou  mayest  not  be 

As  other  men, 

Human  in  thy  weakness, 

And  in  thy  strength 

Still  seeking  greater  strength? 

How  short  thy  days! 

How  quickly  sets  thy  sun 

Behind  those  mountains 

Of  thy  Pride  and  Self! 


196 


THY  LOST  LIBIDO1 

A  GLORIOUS  vision 

Dazzling  in  its  beauty 

Swept  before  thy  gaze. 

And,  when  to  capture  it 

Great  sacrifice  was  asked  of  thee, 

Thou  did'st  as  Hercules 

In  the  Syrian  tale, 

Who  for  the  sake  of  his  rebirth 

Plunged  to  the  deep  within  himself 

To  rescue  his  libido. 

And  now  even  as  Hercules 

Hast  thou  failed  to  free  thyself. 

For  thou  art  held  as  he 

Enmeshed  in  dreams 

Of  tangled  weeds 

Beneath  the  sea, 

A  captive  still 

To  the  mother  image, 

The  libido  of  thy  early  days 

And  childhood. 

And  I  who  thought 

To  see  thee  gloriously  rise 

1  Psychology  of  the  Unconscious,  by  Jung. 
197 


198  THY  LOST  LIBIDO 

Bearing  from  the  deep 

Thy  captured  prize 

Which  was  to  be  my  crown, 

Am  bowed  in  pain 

And  weep  for  thee 

And  thy  lost  libido. 

For  now  do  I  know 

Thou  shalt  not  seek, 

Thou  shalt  not  find  the  real. 

Now  are  thy  feet  bound 

With  iron  chains 

Which  thou  hast  forged. 

Now  are  thy  wings  caught  and  held 

By  cords  fashioned  by  thy  hand. 

Now  dost  thou  bleed 

And  fester  from  the  poisoned 

Arrow  wounds  of  thy  thought. 

Now  does  thy  voice 

Once  mellow  and  sweet 

Ring  discord. 

And  the  magic  of  thy  hand 

That  was  such  it  sang  to  me 

Now  no  longer  sings 

That  symphony  of  touch 

So  sweet  to  know. 

Now  do  thine  eyes 

That  feared  not  once  the  sun 

Avoid  its  piercing  ray, 

Avoid  the  day 

And  creep  into  the  night 


THY  LOST  LIBIDO  199 

Thy  soul  would  make  for  thee. 

Now,  soon  shall  thy  westering  sun 

Set  upon  the  ruins  of  thy  self, 

To  whom  thou  hast  become  a  slave 

From  whom  there  is  no  escape. 

And  now  shalt  thou  cling 

To  a  thousand  memories  that  die. 

Now  shalt  thou  see 

Falsely  mirrored  in  a  thousand  seas 

Thy  face,  only  thy  face. 


THE  RAINBOW 

I  SEE  at  last  a  rainbow  arching  all  the  sky, 
Symbol  of  the  beauty  buried  deep  in  pain. 
It  is  the  marriage  of  the  magic  hours 
You  loved  me  with,  and  my  many  falling  tears. 
Although  I  weep,  this  the  memory  I  shall  keep 
To  bless  the  lonely  years. 


200 


THE  WINE 

MY  hands  reach  up 
To  touch  your  hair, 
Your  lips  seek  mine, 
As  together, 
From  the  cup  of  Life, 
We  drink  the  wine. 


201 


FOR  LOVE  I  ONCE  HAVE  KNOWN 

WHAT  trust  I  had 
In  your  coming, 
What  faith  I  kept 
Through  all  the  years, 
What  joy 
Slept  in  my  breast, 
Awaiting  birth, 
What  a  wealth  of  love 
Leapt  in  answer 
To  your  own! 

And  Now, 

All  these 

Grow  grey  with  pain, 

With  waiting, 

And  with  longing 

For  love 

I  once  have  known. 


202 


THE  DEATH  I  SEE 

WHEN  alone, 
And  lost  in  thought, 
Often  I  feel, 
As  if  within  myself, 
Rising, 

That  great  self-made 
W  ave  of  pity 
That  o'erwhelms, 
And  would  destroy 
My  lover. 
I  feel  the  thousand 
Self-made  fiends 
Clutching  at  my  throat, 
Crushing  my  heart 
Beneath  their  feet, 
As  they  strive 
To  reach  my  head, 
And  bow  it  low. 
I  feel  the  poison 
Of  their  darts, 
And  know  they  seek 
To  strangle  hope  in  me, 
To  gloat  upon  my  misery, 
Then  must  I  find  the  light, 
203 


204  THE  DEATH  I  SEE 

And  gasp  for  breath 

And  air, 

And  fight  the  death 

I  feel 

Lurking  there, 

So  close  it  seems 

Tome. 


LIFE  IS  CALLING 

You  stand  at  the  open  door 

Guarding  your  heart, 

While  Life  is  calling, 

Calling. 

In  the  secret  chamber 

Of  your  heart, 

Are  countless  winged  thoughts 

That  would  go  free 

To  seek  the  sunlight, 

And  the  open  sea, 

Where  Life  is  calling, 

Calling, 

Yet  how  may  these 

Serve  Life  or  you, 

Who  stand  there 

At  the  open  door, 

Who  will  not  turn 

To  face  the  sun  and  sea, 

Where  Life  is  calling, 

Calling, 

Who  do  not  know 

That  Life  is  just  behind  you 

Calling, 

Calling  you  to  me. 


205 


WHY? 

WHY  did  you  love  me, 

But  for  a  day? 

Why  did  you  come, 

Who  knew  you  would  not  stay? 

Why  did  you  win  my  heart, 

And  drive  my  peace  away, 

For  love  that  lives 

But  for  a  day? 

Why  did  you  wake 

My  sleeping  soul 

To  mate  with  yours, 

Knowing  your  love 

Would  live 

But  for  a  day? 


206 


YOUR  SHADOW 

EACH  night 

You  loved  me, 

And  we  sang 

The  hours  away, 

And  all  through  the  days 

In  memory 

Of  what  was  ours, 

I  clung  to  you. 

The  sun, 

A  symbol 

Of  our  love, 

Lighted  all  our  world. 

1  know  it  held 

But  you, 

Tender  and  true. 

And  through 

All  the  ways 

You  went,  I, 

Your  shadow, 

Followed, 

So  close,  was  I 

To  you. 


207 


THE  GREAT  GATES 

THAT  night  you  whispered : 

"My  beloved," 

And  all  our  love 

Was  told, 

And  I  rested  with  my  head 

Against  your  shoulder, 

And  looked  up  at  you, 

And  knew,  and  understood. 

For  then 

The  great  gates, 

That  all  these  years 

Have  locked  my  soul, 

And  held  it  sacred 

To  your  coming, 

Opened  wide, 

And  set  me  free, 

And  all  my  being 

Rose,  and  went, 

On  great  white  wings, 

To  you. 


208 


MY  SONG 

FOR  miles 

I  walked 

Upon  the  silver  sands, 

Alone 

With  sky  and  sun 

And  dunes. 

I  listened 

To  the  sea, 

To  the  waves 

Washing  on  the  shore, 

And  heard  once  more 

The  rune  of  sea 

And  sky  and  sun. 

Each  wave 

As  it  came 

Caught  up  the  song 

And  carried  it  along. 

A  fog  came  in, 
And  all  the  beauty 
Of  the  sea 
Turned  grey, 
Sky  faded 
To  deep  violet, 
14  209 


210  MY  SONG 

A  mist  crept  in 

Veiling  the  dunes, 

And  still  the  sea 

Sang  on, 

Sang  its  song, 

And  from  the  sea  and  fog, 

There  came  to  me 

A  sense  of  isolation, 

A  sense  that  life 

Had  passed  me  by, 

Had  left  me  stranded 

On  the  sands, 

That  youth  was  gone, 

That  all 

The  pulsing  music 

Of  my  soul 

Was  sung, 

And  love  was  done. 

As  the  sea 

Lay  lapped  in  fog 

So  the  grey  twilight 

Of  my  soul 

Lay  wrapped 

In  the  mystery 

Of  Life. 

Then  on  a  pearly  bar 
Of  sand, 

I  wrote  to  the  sea 
This,  my  song  to  thee: 


MY  SONG  211 

O  Sea, 

In  whose  bosom 

Lie  the  haunting  secrets 

Of  the  waves, 

0  Sea, 

Who  daily  chants 

A  litany 

To  the  shore, 

Take  to  my  love,  from  me, 

This  love, 

As  deep  as  thy  heart, 

Great  as  thy  wealth  of  blue, 

True  as  the  song 

You  sing 

To  woo 

The  sands. 

0  Sea, 

Tell  my  love 

That  while  yoKr  voice  is  heard, 

1  too  shall  sing  my  love, 
And  when  your  voice 
No  longer  sings, 

Then  all  the  love 
I  bring 

Will  be  buried  deep 
In  the  silence 
That  you  keep. 
Tell  him 
What  I  wrote 
With  singing  hands 


212  MY  SONG 

Upon  the  sands, 

Tell  Mm  how 

My  choking  sobs 

Broke  with  each  word 

I  wrote, 

And  0  Sea,  tell  him, 

Tell  him  to  come  back  to  me ! 

And  the  sea  came, 

And  took 

With  loving  hands, 

My  song, 

And  word  by  word, 

Line  by  line 

I  saw  it  melt 

Into  the  sea. 

And  now  is  my  song 

In  the  song  of  the  sea, 

Now  shall  it  be  carried 

By  the  waves 

From  shore  to  shore, 

Now  shall  the  sea 

Sing  to  my  Love, 

Sing  as  it  never  sang  before. 

And  when  he  hears 

That  endless  rune 

Of  sky  and  sun 

And  sea, 

It  will  sing  to  him 

Of  me, 


MY  SONG  213 

And  always  will  he  know, 

When  the  sea  sings 

To  woo 

The  sands, 

My  song  too  is  there 

To  woo, 

A  song 

Done  with  loving  hands. 


A-WING 

FOR  one  brief  hour, 
Two  butterflies 
Like  flowers  a- wing 
Drift  and  cling. 

I  too 

Have  drifted  through 

Winged  hours, 

Hours  the  colour 

Of  loved  flowers, 

I  too 

Have  lived 

A  few  brief  hours 

A-wing. 


214 


WERE  YOU  THE  SEA 

WERE  you  the  sea 
And  I  the  shore, 
Each  day, 
Each  night 
You  would  come 
Tome, 
And  seek , 
Within  my  arms 
For  peace, 
Were  you,  the  sea 
And  I  the  shore. 

Were  you  the  sea, 
And  I  the  shore, 
Each  day, 
Each  night 
You  would  quench 
My  thirst, 
My  hunger  ease, 
You  would  come 
To  give  me  more, 
Always  more, 
Were  you  the  sea 
And  I  the  shore. 
215 


216  WERE  YOU  THE  SEA 

Were  you  the  sea, 
And  I  the  shore, 
Each  day, 
Each  night 
You  would  sweep 
O'er  me. 
Your  kiss 
Would  reach 
My  parched  lips, 
Your  body  press 
My  own, 

Were  you  the  sea, 
And  I  the  shore. 

Were  you  the  sea, 

And  I  the  shore, 

Each  day, 

Each  night 

We  would  bare 

To  the  sun  and  stars 

The  beauty 

We  had  won, 

I  from  you, 

And  you  from  me, 

Were  you  the  sea, 

And  I  the  shore. 


IN  OTHER  EYES 

WHEN  I  sought  to  see 

In  other  eyes, 

The  light 

That  shines  in  mine, 

I  was  blinded, 

For  I  found  a  light 

That  came  to  me 

As  sunlight 

Off  the  sea. 

It  was  my  own  light 

That  blinded  me. 


217 


PURPLE 

You  placed 

In  the  hands 

Or  hirelings 

Unsealed, 

That  prying  eyes 

Might  read,        . 

The  sacred  words 

Of  love 

I  wrote  to  you, 

With  your  own  hand 

You  tore  away 

The  purple 

I  had  clothed  you  in. 


218 


THE  SPIRIT'S  DREAM 

How  good  it  is  to  know 

That  all  the  glorious  vision 

Of  one's  love, 

Lives  in  the  heart. 

How  good  to  know 

No  other  heart 

Cap.  touch, 

No  other  hand 

Can  crush 

The  spirit's  dream 

What  though  my  love 

Be  false, 

To  himself, 

Thus  false  to  me, 

He  cannot  wound 

My  vision, 

Or  hurt  the  glory 

Of  the  love 

That  yet  shall  be. 


219 


TO  MY  SONS 

THE  consecrated  passion 

Of  my  youth, 

My  will  and  all  my  strength 

I  gave  to  you, 

To  use. 

My  task  is  ended 

When  you  have  learned 

There  is  no  greater  force 

Than  this — my  love  for  you. 

I  give  you  all  to  life, 

Life  has  a  greater  claim  than  I, 

You  have  a  right 

To  your  experience, 

To  live,  to  suffer  and  to  learn — 

My  task  to  stand  aside. 

If  you  have  learned 

To  be  the  god  of  your  own  life, 

And  see  both  heaven  and  hell, 

As  here,  and  made  by  you, 

And  know  the  world 

Is  but  the  larger  self — 

One  heart,  one  life,  one  goal 

And  all  humanity 

The  living  soul  of  God, — 

My  work  is  done. 


220 


THE  EMPTY  CUP 

WHY  does  my  Love  not  see 

The  empty  cup 

I  am  holding  up 

For  him  to  fill? 

Why  does  he  drink  of  mine, 

And  find  good  wine, 

To  meet  his  will, 

And  still  not  see 

The  empty  cup 

I  am  holding  up 

For  him  to  fill? 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  LIFE 

LET  us  rise  above  ourselves 

And  face  again 

The  spirit's  dream, 

When  we  two  climbed 

The  mountain, 

Hand  in  hand, 

That  we  might  understand. 

We  found  the  way  of  Life, 

We  looked  with  fearless  eyes 

Upon  its  sun, 

We  found  the  mystery  of  Life, 

And  dreamed 

In  the  shadow  of  its  wings. 

0  let  us  rise  above  ourselves, 

And  face  again 

The  spirit's  dream. 


222 


MY  HANDS 

MY  hands  laid  the  fire, 
Sacred  to  our  love, 
Upon  our  hearth, 
My  hands  lit  the  flame 
That  made  it  burn. 
My  hands  made 
The  perfumed  wine, 
For  us  two. 

My  hands  were  in  yours 
As  I  knelt  to  you, 
And  our  four  lips 
Melted  in  a  kiss. 


223 


IN  THE  NIGHT 

I  THOUGHT  that  love  would  die, 
Yet  now  have  I  waked  in  the  night 
To  hear  again  its  cry. 


224 


DAY    AND    NIGHT 

I  THOUGHT  my  love 
Would  never  sing  again . 
And  I  was  glad 
Its  voice  had  made  me 
Suffer  so. 

But  now  must  I  hear, 
Day  and  night, 
The  silent  beating 
Of  its  wings, 
While  still  it  strives, 
To  find  the  light. 
It  will  not  die, 
It  will  not  die. 


is  225 


HOW   DO   I  KNOW? 

How  do  I  know 
You  love  me, 
Who  tell  me 
Love  is  done  ? 
You  have  a  heart 
That  sings  to  me, 
A  heart  you  cannot  still. 
It  brings  me 
All  the  songs 
It  sings. 

They  come  to  me 
In  the  silence 
Of  the  dawn, 
When  day  is  born, 
With  the  first  song 
Of  bird, 
Or  the  cry 
Of  the  new  day. 
They  come  to  me 
When  the  sun  is  high 
In  the  noonday  sky, 
When  all  bird  songs 
Are  hushed; 
They  come  to  me 
226 


HOW  DO  I  KNOW?  227 

At  dusk, 

With  the  last  note 

The  bird  sings 

To  its  mate, 

And  in  the  hush 

And  silence  of  the  night, 

They  come  to  woo, 

To  bear  me 

On  great  silver  wings 

To  you, 

And  I  go.  ... 

This  is  how  I  know. 


THE  SACRIFICE 

LOVE, 

When  we  drink 
Of  thy  cup, 
We  must  drink 
With  bended  knee, 
And  offer  up 
Our  lives. 
Thy  cup 
The  sacrifice 
Thou  claimest 
For  Life. 


228 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  YOUR  LOVE 

To  the  temple 

Of  your  love, 

I  came  with  bared  feet, 

Wrapped 

Only  in  the  cloak 

Of  dim  remembered 

Mystery, 

Of  love 

You  gave  me 

In  some  other  world. 

I  came 

With  prayer 

Upon  my  lips, 

My  heart  winged 

With  song 

From  otherwhere. 

I  laid 

My  winged  heart 

Upon  the  altar  there, 

And  my  cloak 

Slipped  away 

And  left  my  body  bare, 

A  taper, 

229 


230     THE  TEMPLE  OF  YOUR  LOVE 

Tall  and  slim  and  fair. 

And  when  you  came 

And  found  me  there, 

Our  souls 

Became 

One  burning  flame 

You  lighted  there. 


WHITE  NIGHTS 

NIGHTS  come  to  me 

White, 

As  the  mist 

Of  vanished  dreams. 

But  sometimes 

Pulsing  through  the  mist 

Of  white, 

Blue  birds  wing, 

The  living  nights 

That  made  my  spring. 


231 


SCATTERED  DREAMS 

ALTHOUGH  my  dreams 
From  day  to  day 
May  break  and  scatter 
As  spent  waves 
Upon  the  shore, 
Beyond  the  moment 
Ever  lies  the  hour 
When  dream  and  goal 
Shall  meet. 

Past  the  breaking  waves, 

Past  the  rocks  and  storm, 

There  lies 

The  meeting  line 

Of  sky  and  sea, 

Clasped  in  the  quiet 

Of  eternity. 


232 


HEARTS  MAY  DIE 

HEARTS  may  die 

Many  deaths, 

Many  hearts  lie  dead. 

While  there  is  life, 
Love  cannot  die, 
Love  knows  no  death. 


233 


IN  SABLE   WINGS 

I  THOUGHT  your  wings 
Were  white, 
All  summer  long 
I  looked  to  see  them 
Flashing  in  the  sun, 
And  thought  to  hear 
Your  song 
Winging  through  the  air. 

But  where  you  are 

There  is  no  sun, 

Your  great  white  wings 

Are  gone. 

I  see  you  wrapped 

In  the  silence 

Of  the  sable  wings, 

That  make  your  night, 

And  weep  to  have  it  so; 

Yet  I  rejoice  to  know 

It  was  with  me, 

You  made  your  last 

Great  glorious  flight. 


234 


AS  THE  SEA 

As  the  sea 

Takes  her  mood 

From  the  sky, 

So  do  I 

From  you. 

The  greyness 

Of  your  present  mood 

Grips  me, 

And  holds  me  tight, 

I  feel  so  near 

The  night 

That  comes  to  you. 


235 


HAD  WE  TWO  KNOWN 

HAD  we  two  known 

What  sacred  ways 

We  went, 

And  on  what  hallowed 

Dust  we  walked, 

If  we  had  felt 

The  hearts  of  other  lovers 

On  our  path, 

Hearts  that  bled 

That  we  might  pass, 

If  we  had  seen  their  tears 

As  dew  upon  the  grass, 

And  felt 

The  hunger  of  their  lips 

In  flowers, 

Lifting  yearning  faces 

To  the  sun, 

We  might  have  kept 

The  path  we  lost, 

We  might  not  now 

Be  numb  with  pain, 

Our  love  unsung. 


236 


MY  SONS 

To  my  sons 

My  strength  has  been 

A  tower, 

At  whose  feet 

The  lashing  sea 

Of  Life 

Has  broken. 

They  have  seen  its  beacon 

Glowing  through  my  night, 

And  known  it  there, 

To  light  their  own. 

Its  beam 

Has  shown  to  them 

The  real  and  the  unreal, 

And  they  have  seen 

The  empty  fluttering  things 

Of  Life 

Fall  with  burnt  wings, 

And  drift  away. 

And  now 

Must  I  see  each  one 
Has  builded  him 
237 


238  MY  SONS 

A  tower, 

A  greater  tower 

Than  my  own. 

A  tower  whose  strength 

A  world  shall  know. 

Each  son 

Bears  now  his  lamp 

Whose  glow 

Shall  carry  far, 

To  light  new  worlds, 

To  search  new  truths, 

A  lamp  whose  gleam 

And  glow 

Shall  dim  my  own. 

To  them, 

My  lamp  burns  low. 

Now  shall  it  go 

Where  all  burnt  candles  go. 

The  star, 

My  heart  now  follows, 

Is  the  truth 

They  bear, 

Their  strength  my  own. 


CLOSE  THE  BOOK 

Now  shall  I  turn  the  page, 

And  close  the  book. 

I  have  read  too  long, 

Too  deep, 

Have  tried  too  hard 

To  know  the  ways  of  man. 

Now  do  I  know     • 

That  those  who  seek 

For  gold, 

Find  pain, 

And  those  who  seek 

For  love, 

Find  sorrow, 

Again,  and  yet  again 

They  find  these  things. 

And  those  who  find  treasure, 

The  treasure  of  love, 

Or  the  treasure  of  gold, 

Find  it  in  sorrow, 

And  find  it  in  pain. 

When  we  have  learned 

To  love,  through  sorrow, 

And  have  turned  our  pain 

To  gold, 

Then  do  we  know 

The  world  is  ours. 


239 


PS 
3513 

G183w 


A    000926426     8 


